


lifetime achievement award

by horseGhost



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Body Horror, Gen, babys first fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22271995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horseGhost/pseuds/horseGhost
Summary: A month after his untimely death in a lab accident, rising pop idol Danny Fenton wakes up to a world that thinks he's gone and a new face to sing to that world with.
Relationships: Danny Fenton & Jack Fenton, Danny Fenton & Jazz Fenton, Danny Fenton & Tucker Foley & Sam Manson, Danny Fenton & Wesley Weston, Ember McLain & Danny Fenton
Comments: 28
Kudos: 53





	1. the broken stairway

Danny Fenton was a star, the nation knew, so what a shame it was that he had died so young.

The pop idol was one apart from his family, always in pursuit of the arts more than the sciences, much to their confusion. His sister Jasmine Fenton, the psychologist, had always tried to pry a reason out of him, but had never gotten anything more than a simple, “It’s what I love.” There was little more that his parents, both of them inventors renowned in their field, could do to understand.

Then, on the 6th of December, the news came out: Danny had died in a freak accident relating to a machine his parents had built.

It was an overstatement to say that the nation wept for him, but his hometown, his die-hard fans did. The day after, more than half the student body of Casper High refused to attend in his honor. 

The week after, Jack and Maddie Fenton became two of the most hated figures in Amity Park.

The month after, with Jasmine’s encouragement, the two gave up their lifetime goal altogether-- the capture and study of ghosts.

And as they broke into their ghost portal, the device which had killed their son, to turn it off using the very same switch Danny had turned it on with, they could have and did not notice a prone figure against the back wall, shadows concealing a shock of white-and-black hair, its face stained with softly glowing tracks of tears that had long-since dried.

The day after the portal switched off, there was one ghost who remained. 

The week after, that ghost woke up.

Danny came to his senses slowly. Disoriented, he racked his brain for what he last remembered doing.  _ Right-- the portal. The on switch was inside it. I pressed it, and… Did it work? _

Danny sat up and looked around. Everything looked different in a way he couldn’t place. There was too much green, too many hues of purple where they shouldn’t be. He was inside the portal, he guessed, judging by his perspective. However, every light was off inside it, even those illuminating the wires-- and the one illuminating the  _ on _ switch.

“It didn’t work?” Danny thought. “I thought for sure…”

He marvelled at how much the interior of the portal made his voice echo. He would have thought the acoustics of a chamber this small wouldn’t have made much of an impact on the sound. All the stadiums he had performed in were huge compared to this, after all. But then again, he decided, he had had microphones and amplifiers then. Now it was just his own voice and a broken ghost portal.

“Hello!” he shouted experimentally. Again, his voice echoed. Danny smiled, then decided he should head upstairs to tell his parents the bad news. Dad would be devastated, he suspected, but it wasn’t anything a large enough helping of fudge wouldn’t clear up.

He stepped outside the portal, fumbling around for the zipper of the hazmat suit he had thrown on. He looked down at it and almost jumped out of his skin.

The suit, formerly white with black accents, had become just the opposite-- black with white accents, and what’s more, it was  _ glowing. _

_ Wow,  _ he thought, plucking at the rubbery fabric. It was tailor-made, but it still looked clunky on him.  _ This looks like a really bad superhero costume. Or something a ghost would wear.  _ He stopped and considered wearing something like this for his next concert. It would be a nice shout-out to his parents’ career. But then again, what would his fans think?

Danny snapped up as something clattered onto the floor. 

The first thing he saw was Mom’s prototype for the Fenton Thermos. Except-- it wasn’t a prototype. It looked to be a working, fully-fledged ghost containment canister, in mint condition save for the thin layer of dust that it had somehow collected and was now dislodging as it rolled across the floor.

The second thing he saw was his sister, flat against the wall, terror wracked through every move she made. Or didn’t make. She seemed frozen.

Danny took a step towards her. “Jazz? Are you alright?”

Jazz’s breathing quickened. She pressed herself harder against the wall.

He stopped. “What’s wrong? You look like--  _ heh _ \--like you’ve seen a ghost,” he joked.

Jazz looked like a cornered animal now. She seemed to realize this, and began calming herself down, it looked like to Danny. Finally, she said something, voice quavering ever so slightly. “Do you not get it?”

Danny stared at Jazz, confused. She looked away. “Get what?”

“That portal wasn’t supposed to work. We turned it off.  _ You-- _ ” she gestured at him, “--shouldn’t be here. There’s no possible way…”

“Wait, are you saying the portal worked?” interjected Danny. “I thought the switch didn’t do anything.”

“We turned it off. I convinced Mom and Dad to turn their back on ghosts, after the accident _ \-- _ ”

“Accident?” asked Danny. “And what do you mean,  _ turned it off? _ And why is that Thermos finished instead of a prototype? And why is my suit--”

“ _ Stop. _ ” Jazz had stepped away from the wall and was now towering over Danny, putting her four inches on him to good use. “I live here. I interrogate you first.”

Danny wanted to add on that, technically, he lived there, too, but he let Jazz talk. After all, she was older than him, and smarter than him, and generally had better advice than him. He just didn’t get why she was treating him like she didn’t know him.

“First things first. I know what you are. But  _ who _ are you?”

Or maybe, Jazz really didn’t recognize him. Somehow, he didn’t expect a question from Jazz to be more confusing than an open-ended question on Mr. Falluca’s bio tests, but there he was.

“Hello?” asked Danny. “Earth to Jazz? I might be wearing a glowing suit for some reason, but that shouldn’t stop you from recognizing your own--”

“Another thing. How do you know my name? I’ve never seen you before, and you probably haven’t seen me before, either, unless I have a  _ ghost stalker _ that I don’t know about and wouldn’t hesitate to trap in this thermos.” She eyed the thermos in question with a dangerous glint in her eye.

“Jazz, I’m your-- Wait.” Danny’s stomach dropped. “Did you say  _ ghost? _ ”

Jazz’s anger seemed to evaporate. “You don’t… know? You don’t know you’re a ghost?”

“I’m a ghost?” Danny tensed. “Oh, no.  _ Oh, no. _ ” He took a step back. “What happened to me?”

It sunk in. The portal  _ had  _ worked. There had been an accident, and they had turned it off, and now Jazz didn’t recognize him and was calling him a ghost--

Danny was dead.

His breath caught in his throat. ( _ Why was he breathing? He was dead.)  _ His eyes widened. He froze, panic clouding his thoughts.  _ (What was he doing? Ghosts don’t have emotions.) _ He didn’t know what to do. He curled into himself, all too aware of his feet leaving the floor, all too aware of his  _ ghost _ floating in midair. He felt trapped. He was trapped. He was dead.

Dead, and buried, and--

A hand around his wrist tore him back into reality. He felt his pulse racing against the hand.  _ (How did he have a pulse? He was dead.)  _

He saw Jazz’s face, concern and sympathy and determination lighting it all at once. “Look,” she began, “I get that being, well, dead, is hard. It was hard for everyone when my brother died, too.”

He knew it was true, but hearing it all again cut into him. He shuddered. In his throat, a sob began to rise up. Tears blurred his eyes.

He didn’t want to be here. Anywhere but here would be good enough for him. 

“But I can help you. I think. After all, I’m going into psychology when I graduate.”

Danny flexed his hand and met Jazz’s eyes again. “You know how you can help me right now?” he quavered.

Jazz loosened her grip on his wrist. “How?”

“By  _ leaving me alone! _ ” Danny wrenched his arm out of her hand and flew-- literally,  _ flew _ \-- out the lab and into the kitchen. 

He ran upstairs, into his room, and stopped dead.

Everything had been cleared out. His room was empty, save for his zebra-striped keytar case and a simple red-and-white calendar with the dates crossed out, like Mom liked to do.

Danny took a closer look at the calendar. It was new, having just been opened to January. Everything up to the 21st had been crossed out.

That wasn’t right. None of this was right. It had been December when Danny had gone into the portal, right?

The thud of footsteps, Jazz’s footsteps, racing up the stairs caught Danny’s attention. “Ghost boy, I--!”

“...Jazz.” He gestured to his room. “How long have I been dead?”

It had been an hour since Danny had learned of his own death, and since Jazz had learned of his existence, and now Danny wanted more than anything to break down crying. 

Instead, he stood up. “I’m going to the bathroom,” he told Jazz, and trudged off. Maybe some cold water on his face would make him feel a little less like he was dead, and a little more like he was only  _ half _ dead.

Or, he thought as he walked into the bathroom and glanced at the mirror, he could take a look at his own reflection and feel even worse about himself.

His hair, once dark brown highlighted with white, was now completely the opposite-- snow-white with stripes of pitch black peeking through. 

His eyes were green and glowing, such that he hardly recognized himself in the way it lit his face. 

His skin, once rather pallid, looked tanned, or perhaps burnt. It would make sense, he thought, considering how he had become a ghost-- fried to death. Crispy golden-brown, like a McNugget. 

He smiled to himself. After making that joke, he felt a little better, although the weight of being  _ dead _ still hung inside him like the counterbalance in a skyscraper. 

Wistfully, he wished to himself that he was still alive, that he still looked like himself.

Then his whole body seemed to freeze. 

A bright light filled the room, flashing like mad. Danny squeezed his eyes shut, trying to avoid a small migraine. He’d had enough trauma today as it was. When the frozen sensation had disappeared, and he was absolutely sure the flashing had stopped, he cracked an eye open. 

A  _ blue  _ eye.

Danny looked at himself. The hazmat suit was gone, replaced with his white and blue day clothes, and his hair and skin were back to normal, too. He gasped, and noticed that the echo was gone from his voice. He even  _ felt _ less like a corpse.

Somehow, he had brought himself back to life.

He would have screamed if he hadn’t heard the front door downstairs creak open.

“Jazz, sweetie?” called out Mom.

“In a second!” Danny heard Jazz call back. A few seconds passed, and there was a knock on the bathroom door. “Danny, are you in there?” she whispered.

“Yeah,” Danny said back. “Just had to splash some water on my face. You know, make sure I’m not having some large-scale, trauma-inducing nightmare.”

“And you’re not?” asked Jazz back.

“Worse,” said Danny, opening the door and showing his human self to Jazz. “I think I am.”

The shock on Jazz’s face was palpable. She would have yelped in surprise if Danny hadn’t covered her mouth. “Just go downstairs, pretend everything’s normal. Please don’t tell them about me.”

Jazz nodded, backed away, and went downstairs.

Danny turned and left the bathroom after her, heading for his own room. The window had been left open, he noticed. He was thankful for that-- it squeaked when someone tried to move it. He grabbed his keytar case, noting that yes, it did contain the keytar, swung through the window, and dropped onto the ground.

That was a mistake.

Landing on your foot wrong is an unpleasant experience, but it’s livable. At most, you end up with a bad sprain. Landing on your foot wrong, then slipping on ice, is worse, but still, the unluckiest you can get is a hairline fracture.

Falling from a second-story window, landing on your foot wrong, then slipping on ice? That’s a  _ bad _ experience.

And Danny was currently going through a bad experience.

“Note to self,” he hissed as he gripped his ankle, which felt and looked like very much it had broken. “Put today on the list of ‘days I would not like to relive’.”

The good news was that his case had landed on top of him, and would certainly be intact.

He was a different story. He would  _ not _ be putting weight on his foot for a good while. 

An idea came to him. Ghosts didn’t need to walk, right? If he could, somehow become a ghost again, like he had somehow come back to life, he could fly his way to Tucker’s house. 

_ Great idea, Fenton, _ he thought.  _ That’s really cutting off your nose to spite your face. _

Still, he inwardly searched himself for that feeling of being a ghost. The weightlessness, the weird colors, the glowing… 

And he found it in a small patch of cold nestled where his throat met his chest. 

He imagined the patch expanding to encompass his whole body, and expand it did.

Before he knew it, he was two inches off the ground, staring at his gloved hand.

In his chest, he noticed where his heart had been was a crystal of warmth that pulsed much like a heart did. That must be how he had turned back into an alive version of himself.

“This is amazing!” he said aloud. “I can change back and forth whenever I want to?”

He remembered the task at hand. “Right. Go find Tucker. He’ll want to know about this.”

He found Tucker lying on his bed and playing  _ Rainforest Demolition 2  _ on his Virtual Boy system, completely oblivious to the world around him. 

Danny went to tap on the window, and yelped when his hand went  _ through _ the window. He thought for a second. Well, what he was about to do beat waiting for Tucker to let him in. When Tucker focused on something, he  _ focused _ on it.

Not wasting another second, Danny imagined himself going straight through the window. He flew forward, bracing himself in case he actually did smash  _ into _ the window. 

Thankfully, the change from cold to warm air ensured him that he had instead phased through the window entirely. Amazed, he gazed at his hands. For a second before solidifying, they appeared translucent, like frosted glass letting through color but not image.

Now for the fun part.

He put down the keytar with a dull  _ clunk _ . Jumping off the ground and hovering there, he prepared himself to lunge.

_ Focus, and… _

Light washed over him, and an entirely human Danny Fenton hit the floor with a decidedly less dull  _ crash _ , grabbing his foot and shouting in pain.

Tucker jolted up and whirled around, completely prepared to weaponize his Virtual Boy. Danny was actually impressed at how fast his reaction time was. He guessed it was the video games.

When Tucker saw Danny, he froze. It looked to Danny like he was going through all five stages of grief-- in reverse.  _ Fitting. _

Danny raised a hand in greeting, wincing as he shifted weight over his foot. “Uh… boo?”

Tucker looked like he was about to cry. Danny didn’t blame him. Tucker shook his head. “How are you… How?”

“I would tell you if I knew,” said Danny. “Last thing I remember, it was December and I was turning on the Fenton Portal, and now it’s January, the portal’s defunct, and I’m not entirely sure I’m not dead.”

“Dude, I…” Tucker dropped the Virtual Boy. “I went to your funeral. I  _ saw _ your body. Why am I seeing you right--” He stopped for a second, thought to himself. Then he turned to Danny. “Didn’t your parents study ghosts for a living?”

“They  _ did, _ ” said Danny. “They made a bunch of hypotheses about what they would look like, what drove them to exist. But Jazz told me they gave it all up after… after I died.”

“So I’m looking at a ghost right now?” Tucker sat up.

“Yes… and no.” Danny prodded at the icy patch in his throat. It set off the transformation. For the first time, Danny actually watched it happen-- a halo of blue light appeared around his waist. It split into two as Danny watched in amazement. Everywhere the light passed over took away his human body and left his ghost in its place. When it was finished, the green-eyed Danny stared at a gaping Tucker. “Now you are.”

“I can change between being a ghost and being… alive,” Danny explained. “I don’t know how, or why. I bet my parents would, but I can’t face them. Not as a ghost, and definitely not as a human.”

Danny was suddenly distracted by a loud  _ click _ in his ankle. He looked down in surprise. His ankle seemed to be mending itself, bone shifting itself back into place, tendons repairing themselves. He wiggled his foot experimentally. No jolt of pain accompanied the movement.

“Aaand I have super healing. Good to know.”

Tucker was on his knees now. “Dude, this is amazing.” He got out of bed and sat down level with Danny. “You’re like, like Frankenstein’s monster, or the modern Eurydice.”

“Who’s Eurydice?”

“I don’t know. Sam told me about her.” Tucker hesitated, then poked Danny experimentally.

Danny flinched back. “Hey! Mind the face!”

“Man, you’re… This is so weird.”

“The dead part? Or the alive part?”

“ _ Both! _ ” Tucker took off his beret, squeezing it in his hands. “If I were you, I would  _ freak _ ! What are you going to do now?”

Danny thought for a moment. What  _ was _ he going to do? He thought about the concert that had been coming up before the accident. “Remember Elmerton?”

“The concert? Wh--” Tucker stopped. “No, no. No way. You are not going back up there. Everyone thinks-- no,  _ knows _ you’re dead.”

“And what’s stopping me from going up there and proving it? Think about it, Tucker.” Danny swept his arm in a wide gesture. “Danny Fenton’s back in business-- from the grave to the stage!”

“You should at least tell your parents you’re back before you go telling the whole world. Wouldn’t want them to miss out on your grand debut.” Danny turned to see Sam standing in the doorway, shopping bag in hand, as if she wasn’t staring right at the ghost of her best friend.

“How long have you been standing there?” asked Tucker.

“Long enough,” Sam said. She went over to Danny and swept him into a hug. “Good to see you again.” 

Danny smiled, feeling rather warm inside-- and not because he was changing back. “Yeah. Nice to see you.”

Sam placed Danny back on his feet. “Anyway, I  _ super _ get what you’re going for here. Also, I  _ love  _ the undead popstar vibe you’ll be giving out from now on. But I think your parents should know before the world does, alright? It’s only fair-- they gave up ectology for you.”

“And  _ I _ think you shouldn’t go for it at all!” broke in Tucker. “Tell your parents if you have to, but a  _ ghost popstar? _ Think of the reception!”

“And since when did you care about Danny’s reception, Tucker?” said Sam.

Danny suddenly wondered if turning invisible was a ghost power. He watched his field of vision widen and concluded that it was. 

“All I’m saying is that it’s not safe for him to just come back from the dead!”

“Corpses have rights, Tucker, though yours might not when I’m done with you.”

Danny decided that the argument would continue whether he wanted it to or not. Silently, he picked up his keytar, noticing that it became just as invisible as him when he touched it, phased through the window, and flew out. They didn’t even notice that he had disappeared.

Danny phased into the house, and only dropped his invisibility when he was sure there was nobody around.

He was wrong.

He’d know his mother’s shocked gasp anywhere-- when he dropped a plate, when he carelessly walked into a painstaking experiment, when Dad would burst through the door waving a new breakthrough in the air, when a ghost appeared in the living room.

He whirled around to meet her. Her expression was unreadable.

“Hey,” he managed. “Didn’t see you there.”

No sooner did those words come out than did Maddie whip out a Fenton Thermos.  _ Another finished one, _ he noticed.

“You have five words to convince me not to use you as a look into bringing back our son,” she growled. “Use them wisely.”

“Is it not  _ obvious? _ ” exclaimed Danny, who very quickly realized that he had exactly one word left to explain the events of the day. “Uh… oops.”

That last word wasn’t inaccurate, he thought, even as he felt himself being drawn into the Thermos.

Danny was in the dark for a long time.

And he was  _ very  _ uncomfortable.

He had considered singing to himself, but for one reason or another, he couldn’t speak. Maybe it was because his throat was crushed. Maybe it was because his throat didn’t exist at the moment. He didn’t know.

He didn’t know a lot of things. One of which was how long he had been in there. Maybe it had been days. Maybe it had been thirty seconds. He couldn’t think straight. It was dark. He couldn’t breathe. He realized that he didn’t need to breathe.

Everything was covered in a thick fog. His senses felt dulled. He wasn’t using his senses, he noted. _ Great. I’m hallucinating. _

It had been a long time, then, or maybe no time at all had passed. Danny couldn’t perceive a thing.

Then, suddenly, he perceived  _ everything _ .

Danny stumbled out of the Thermos, with a gasp, suddenly aware of things he had never noticed before. Was the fan in Jazz’s room always that loud? The room smelled vaguely of antiseptic, but mostly of snack foods. He could taste some of the salt in the air. He squinted his eyes shut at the vibrant purple wallpaper, but they adjusted quickly.

“Are you alright?” asked Jazz, startling Danny.

Danny shook himself off. The stare he gave the Thermos then could have curdled milk. “That thing should violate the Geneva Convention.”

Jazz winced. “That bad?”

“Worse. It’s like being alone in a dark room with that Charlie guy who lives down the road. You realize how crazy your thoughts are, but you can’t stop thinking ‘em. Feedback loop.”

“Right. I’ll be sure not to take two hours to get you out next time. Dad never taught me how to use the Thermos. There was a lot of trial and error.”

“It took you two hours to open a thermos?”

“The first hour and a half was me actually getting the Thermos from Mom. The next thirty minutes was the puzzling-it-out part.”

Danny smirked. “Impressive. Would have taken me at least a day.” He sobered. “But what Mom said to me makes me nervous. She said she was going to use me to revive… me, I guess. But you said they were turning their back on ghosts.”

“That’s what they said to me,” Jazz said. She turned, worry creasing her face. “Were they planning to keep researching behind my back?”

“Well, uh,” Danny said, racing to find something that would reassure his sister, “They haven’t reopened the Fenton Portal.”

“For  _ now, _ ” said Jazz.

There was a knock on the door. “Jazz?” asked Jack. “Can I come in?”

Danny disappeared without trying. Jazz looked at the space where he had been in surprise, then nodded to herself and called back, “Yeah, Dad.”

Jack opened the door gently, an antithesis to the Jack Danny had known before the accident. “Hey, Jazz. I wanted to let you know something.”

“What is it?” asked Jazz, sitting down at the bed. Danny was sure they both knew the answer to that one.

“Your mother wants to, ah, resume studying ghosts,” confirmed Jack. “Like you heard at the dinner table, she caught one just today, and she thinks it could be a window into reviving loved ones. Like… like Danny.”

So  _ that _ was how Jazz had known about his capture.

“Dad, you know how I feel about ectology,” said Jazz. “Especially since the accident. I don’t want you to get hurt, either.”

“I’m sorry, Jazz-erincess,” said Jack, patting her shoulder. “She’s made up her mind.”

Jazz looked down into her lap.

Wordlessly, Jack stood up and left the room, leaving the door open. Danny kicked it closed.

Making himself visible again, Danny floated down to Jazz. He tried to make light of the situation, for her sake and his own. “Guess the hunt’s on, huh?”

“Guess it is.” Jazz looked up at Danny. “You should go. Before Mom finds you.”

“Yeah,” said Danny. He noticed for the first time that his keytar case was on his back. “Hm. Maybe I should take this off next time I get trapped in the thermos.”

Jazz looked at what he was talking about, and chuckled. “Maybe. I’m surprised it went in.”

“Anyway,” Danny turned from the wall, “I’ll see you around, I guess.”

“Don’t guess,” Jazz said. “You will. Count on it.”

Danny left his house with a smile. Not bothering or willing to turn back to his human half, he made his way on foot through the dark to his last safe place.

The café was small, a simple mom-and-pop kind of place with wooden flooring and handmade chairs. The drinks and pastries were made in-house, but that wasn’t what Danny had come for.

The café was home to a stage with a microphone and an amplifier. That stage had been where he had first become well-known among Casper High students, then popular in Amity Park, and when a video of a performance had gone viral, he had gained fame along the nation as well.

Now he would come here again, and make his second debut. Oxymoronic as it was, it should happen, he thought.

Nobody was on that stage yet. Danny Fenton had been one of the only performers, after all. After checking with the manager, Danny got the okay to climb onstage.

He spent more time than he needed to set up his keytar. Once he was done, Danny stood in front of the microphone and looked at the sparse people here.

It was around seven, after all, and most people would be at home now, not here. One of the few people who were here tonight, Danny noticed, was Dash Baxter.

“Hello,” he said experimentally into the microphone. It amplified his voice like it would a normal human’s. That was good.

“Who do  _ you _ think you are?” jeered Dash. “Some Fenton copycat?”

He was right, Danny guessed. But now, he had to come up with an alias on the spot.  _ Think, think, think. What are synonyms for  _ ghost _? Spirit, specter, apparition, wraith… _

“Phantom,” he said without thinking. “Call me Phantom.”

“Whatever,” said Dash, taking another sip of his drink. Danny could smell the Red Bull from here. “Bet you’re not as good as Fenton.”

Danny ignored him. He tapped out a couple melodies, before deciding on a song he hadn’t played in a while.

He played out the beginning of his song. Once, twice, he hit the wrong key, and once he mistook the melody for some other song, but eventually, he found what he was looking for.

_ “Ooh, it makes me wonder,” _ he started, guiding his keyboard hand at first, then letting muscle memory take charge.  _ “Makes me wonder…” _

_ “Well, it’s whispered that soon, if we all call the tune, then the piper will lead us to reason.  _

_ “And a new day will dawn, for those who stand long, and the forests will echo with laughter.”  _

“Stairway to Heaven” was a song that brought back memories. Jazz had convinced him to learn the entirety on the piano when he was twelve, before he had even dreamed of stardom. Even now he could play it with or without music. He leaned into the melody.

_ “If there’s a bustle in your hedgerow, don’t be alarmed now. It’s just a spring clean for the May queen. _

_ “Yes, there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run, there’s still time to change the road you’re on. And it makes me wonder.” _

The interludes were his favorite part. The shift and changes in chords had always mystified him before he had learned the song. Now, they were vertebrae, a part the song couldn’t stand without.

_ “Your head is humming and it won’t go, in case you don’t know, the piper’s calling you to join him. _

_ “Dear lady, can you hear the wind blow? And did you know? Your stairway lies on the whispering wind...” _

Danny hit the last interlude, then stopped, letting the last chord hang in the air. He looked out on the crowd. Silence, then a smattering of applause.

Danny leaned into the microphone. “Thank you,” he said. He unplugged his keytar, packed it up, and left without another word.

Danny leaned against the café’s brick wall. Outside, it was silent, but inside his mind, he was that piper, playing and following the melody all at once.


	2. shackles in the workshop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: i dont know jack about shit. like danny fenton, i am just fourteen

It wasn’t long before Phantom had come back into the café, which struck Raphael as a bit weird. But, hey, it wasn’t his place to judge. He’d seen weirder. Done weirder, too.

Phantom hadn’t said a word after placing his order. His strange green eyes, however, seemed to glow and twist thoughtfully like molten metal.

The strange boy sat, nursing his tea. Chamomile, Raphael thought to himself. He didn’t like it personally, but it seemed to relax Phantom. Just one of the many odd things about him.

A month and a half after Danny Fenton had died, a stranger was walking into the boy’s favorite venue. A stranger that looked like him. But this stranger… was  _ bizarre _ .

Sure, the keytar that now sat on the ground next to Phantom was a dead ringer for Fenton’s, but it wasn’t unique. You could probably walk into the music store down the street and find twenty like it.

The similarities didn’t end there, though. When Phantom had sung, it had sounded like Fenton’s voice, but somehow, more haunting. Now, Danny Fenton hadn’t been one for soft rock like “Stairway”, but that didn’t mean…

Raphael took a closer look at Phantom. His hair was stark white with streaks of black in it, a direct contrast to Danny Fenton’s hairstyle. His skin was golden brown, emphasis on  _ golden _ . Raphael’s eyes narrowed as he noticed something else. Was Phantom  _ glowing? _

Raphael wondered what the guy’s deal was. He looked like Fenton’s evil twin, or maybe his ghost.

He decided to pay Phantom no more mind until he had to kick him out for the night. After all, it was almost nine now, and although everybody else had left, Phantom showed no sign of moving. Or waking up.

Raphael saw Phantom slump over onto the table, still as a statue. He didn’t even look like he was breathing from this angle. Raphael wouldn’t be surprised if Phantom really was a ghost. He glanced at the clock.  _ 9:02. _ He sighed. Closing time.

Part of him wanted to let Phantom rest. After all, he seemed exhausted. Not many people were capable of crashing face-first into a wood table and staying that way.

The other part of him, though, wanted to go home. Raphael finished up his business behind the bar, setting aside all the pastries that had gone past the due date. Company policy allowed him to take them home if he wanted to, but his appetite wasn’t there today. He put them on a plate and set them aside. He’d throw them away before he locked up.

Behind him, there was a flash of cold white light. He whipped around.  _ What the hell was that? _

But as soon as it had started, it was gone. There was nothing but the dim glow of the café’s own lights. Even the strange light from Phantom was no longer there.

Raphael looked again, and realized that Phantom himself had disappeared. But there was still somebody asleep on the table.

“What the hell…?” He took a step closer to the figure that had replaced Phantom. The person’s chest rose and fell, and Raphael could even hear a soft snore coming from him. No matter what he had thought about the Phantom who had played “Stairway”, this person was indubitably alive.

_ Wait…  _

This person had chocolate-brown hair with white streaks, the opposite of Phantom’s. His shirt was white, with red cuffs and a red collar. The shirt struck Raphael as familiar. The person’s skin, in stark contrast to Phantom’s own, was pale white, dusted with freckles all up and down his arms.  _ Who was this? What did he have to do with Phantom? _

Raphael’s eye caught a newspaper clipping the owner had framed on the wall.  _ Amity Coffee becomes the starting line for teen on his way to stardom, _ it read. The picture was of a smiling Danny Fenton. Raphael never remembered meeting the kid in person, but he had seen his face enough around to get a good idea of what he looked like.

And the person asleep on the table right now looked an awful lot like the idea Raphael had of Danny Fenton.

Was Raphael going crazy? There were so many things wrong with that statement. That wasn’t Danny Fenton, that was Phantom.  _ Who had changed into Danny Fenton. _ Danny Fenton had died over a month ago.  _ In an accident involving ghost tech.  _ Ghosts weren’t real.  _ Then what had his parents been studying all those years? _

The person on the table snorted, then shifted, resting his cheek on his outstretched arm. Now Raphael could get a good look at his face and prove to that little voice of doubt that this wasn’t Danny Fenton. He crouched down and froze.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” he said aloud.

Either he was going crazy, or he really was looking right at the sleeping face of Danny Fenton.

Raphael spent a good fifteen minutes just sitting on the floor next to Danny’s keytar, silently hoping that he was just seeing things wrong, or maybe having a crazy dream, but no matter how many times he slapped himself or took another look at Danny, he had to face the reality that this  _ was _ reality. 

Somehow, he was looking at a living Danny Fenton, his former classmate that he had never talked to, the former up-and-coming pop star, who had  _ died _ and had been dead for the past month. No, this Danny was breathing,  _ snoring _ , even.

Raphael tried to sort out the events of the day. It had been uneventful until Phantom had walked in and performed, the same way Danny Fenton had. That brought Raphael to the thought of Phantom. What  _ was _ he?

He had worn a strange outfit-- it had looked like a black-and-white jumpsuit with thicker fabric and a utility belt. A hazmat suit? His face was stranger still. Eyes weren’t supposed to glow like that.  _ People  _ weren’t supposed to glow like that.

Then again, he thought, taking a look at Danny again, people weren’t supposed to come back to life, either. But, still, what did Danny and Phantom have in common?

_ Let’s see. They both play the same keytar, Phantom’s voice sounds like Fenton’s voice put through an echo chamber, they have the same hairstyle-- _

_ Ghosts. _

That word stopped Raphael’s train of thought dead in its tracks. Danny Fenton had died in an accident pertaining to ghost tech. And if Maddie and Jack Fenton weren’t crackpots, ghosts were real. Meaning Phantom was, more likely than not, a ghost.

He remembered back when he had first looked at Phantom. He had joked to himself that Phantom could be Fenton’s ghost before, but had he really been wrong?

Fenton had stopped snoring. Raphael noticed that his eyes were half-open now.

His breath caught in his throat. Danny Fenton, dead December 6, was now alive and awake in the café. It was something out of a horror story, he thought.

“Uh, dude?” Raphael’s head snapped up. “Are you alright?” asked Danny Fenton.

Raphael almost hit the floor. “Uh- Honestly? Not really. If I was alright, this place would have been closed up ten minutes ago.”

“Huh?” Danny bolted up. Raphael was sure tonight alone had shaved a few years off his lifespan. “I’ve been here that long?”

“No need to rush! It’s only, um…” Standing up, Raphael checked his watch. “Nine twenty-one.”

“No, no, that’s still way too late,” said Danny. “I, uh…” He seemed to remember something. He stilled, then turned to Raphael. “...How much did you see?”

Danny sat down, level with Raphael. “I don’t understand what happened, but I was in the Fenton Portal, hitting the on switch, and next thing I know, it’s January and I’m  _ dead. _ ” He took a bite of a scone Raphael offered him.

“But you’re not.”

“But I’m not!” Danny repeated, running his free hand through his hair. “It’s been a hell of a day. And I can’t even go home. My room was cleared out, and my parents are  _ hunting _ Phantom.” He groaned. “What did I do to deserve this?”

“You can stay at my house if you want,” offered Raphael.

Danny suddenly dropped through the chair, smacking into the ground. “Wh.. what?”

Raphael decided to ignore the chair thing. If it was part of Danny’s  _ undead _ thing, then an explanation could wait. “I said, if you need to, you can stay at my house. My dad’s hardly ever home. Trusts me not to burn the house down.”

“Meanwhile, I can’t trust myself to hold a  _ pencil _ ,” said Danny, who was making a minimal effort to pick himself up. “But… Can I trust you to keep me a secret?”

Raphael hadn’t even thought about that. If Danny’s secret came out, that would cause an uproar. And an uproar could cause a disaster. He nodded. “Alright.” He remembered that he still had to close up shop. “Hang tight. I’ll close this place and then we’ll head home. I don’t live too far from here, so is walking alright?”

Danny nodded.

It didn’t take long for Raphael to close up, especially since Danny had wolfed down all the pastries. Before long, they were on their way home.

Raphael noticed Danny watching him on the walk. “Huh? What’s up?” he asked.

“You look familiar. Do I go to school with you?”

“Uh, yeah,” said Raphael. “You did. I think we were in English together.”

“English? I hate that class.”

“Don’t we all?” chuckled Raphael. “Lancer can’t teach to save his life.”

“And you…” Danny thought for a second. “Isn’t your name… Wes?”

“No.”

“Can I call you Wes? You look like a Wes.”

“Don’t see why not.” Raphael took a deep breath and stopped. “Well, here we are.” He paused, turning to Danny. “Do you want my room? It’s a lot warmer than the guest room.”

“It’s alright,” said Danny. “I can handle a little cold.”

“Alright,” said Raphael, opening the door and guiding Danny into the guest room. “If you need me, it’s down the hall, last door on the left.”

“Thanks, Wes,” Danny said. “I appreciate it.”

Raphael smiled and closed the door.

Danny dreamt that night.

He was lying alone, surrounded by blackness on all sides. A hard surface pressed into his back, but he was comfortable. He could have stayed there forever, if he had to. He almost wanted to stay there, in the dark, all alone.

_ Thud. _

Danny felt weight, comfort being lifted off of him, as if he were lying in bed, having blankets ripped off one by one.

_ Thud. _

Danny felt cold, colder by the second. Deep inside himself, he felt that something was horribly wrong.

_ Thud. _

_ Thud. _

_ SNAP. _

Light exploded all around Danny. He lay there, unable to move, unable to scream. His body didn’t feel like his body. He couldn’t open his mouth. He couldn’t breathe. All he could do was lie there.

He saw and didn’t feel a hand brush his face. He followed the hand, which was gloved, to the arm, which was teal, to the face, which belonged to his mother.

If he could breathe, he would have started to whimper. If he could talk, he would have started to plead. He lay there, limp as a ragdoll.

He felt himself be lifted up into the moonlight and thrown over his mother’s shoulder. He was being taken somewhere, he realized. If he could move, he would have run. If he could speak, he would have screamed. He hung there. Helpless.

A scream cut through the outside air. A cold wind bit into Danny.

And all of a sudden, he wasn’t outside. All of a sudden, there was no moonlight.

Danny sat up in bed. The scream died.

He sat there for a long time, trembling. He worked every thread of the bedsheet through his gloved fingers, sat there as his vision faded in and out. He felt  _ wrong, _ inside and out.

He stayed there for what felt like an eternity, trying to convince himself that it was just a dream, it couldn’t hurt him, it wasn’t real.

So why had it  _ felt _ so real?

There was a soft knock on the door.

“Come in,” Danny said, if only to prove to himself that he could still speak.

Wes opened the door. “Sorry,” he said. “You-- Whoa.”

Danny cocked his head. “What is it?”

“You’re glowing.”

“I am?” Danny looked down. Sure enough, his hands and the bedsheet were bathed in a soft green glow.

“Yeah. It’s kinda cool.” Wes changed the topic. “Was it a nightmare?”

Danny nodded. “I think… I think I was in my own grave.”

Wes stayed silent.

“Someone was digging it up.” A chill ran through him. “ _ Mom _ was digging it up.”

“Your mom?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t move or talk. I couldn’t really feel either. Mom took me out of my grave and all I could do was watch.”

“God, that sounds scary.” Wes walked into the room, shutting the door behind him.

Danny wrapped a blanket around himself tight. “I still don’t feel right.”

“Do you, uh…” Wes started, then seemed to rethink. “Never mind, it’s kind of stupid.”

“No, tell me.”

“You have a grave, you know.” Wes said. “Would it make you feel better if we went out and saw it?”

“Actually…” Danny’s grip on the bedsheet loosened. “Yeah, it would.”

“Come on,” Wes said. “Dad is asleep. We should be able to get out without any problems.”

Danny got out of bed, trying not to let his legs shake.

But to his complete and utter amazement, his legs were gone. In their place was what appeared to be a tail. It instinctually lashed, trying to keep Danny airborne. When he tried to convey to himself that he wanted himself firmly on the ground, the tail split into two legs.

“That’s new,” he remarked.

“Cool,” Wes said. “Now, let’s go before Dad wakes up.”

In under ten minutes’ time, they were out the door and halfway to the Amity Cemetery.

“I could fly you,” Danny offered after some time had passed.

“Nah,” said Wes. “I’d rather walk.”

That was the most they talked, though the atmosphere between them was comfortable. Before too long, though, the gateway was in sight.

And it was open.

“Wes,” said Danny, “is the cemetery usually open this late?”

“It could always be the gravekeeper,” responded Wes.

“Yeah.” Danny wasn’t reassured. They kept walking. Finally, they arrived at the gate.

The lock, Danny noticed, was broken.

“Or maybe there are grave robbers,” Wes said.

Danny felt a pit in his stomach. Slowly, apprehensively, he stepped through the gate. Wes followed wordlessly and led Danny to his own grave.

When Danny saw it, he felt himself drop to the ground, felt his heart speed up, then stop, then start again even faster than before.

Where the gravesite should have been was a large hole. And at the bottom of it, splintered wood.

His body was gone.

Now that Maddie had taken a good look at her son’s body, she noticed that the coroner had done quite a terrible job with his face. The eyes were wide open, she saw, slightly shriveled now, and the expression was one of terror. It was almost as if he had been lifted out of the grave screaming, she mused.

Had it always looked like that?

She remembered one of Danny’s classmates talking to her at the funeral. Her name escaped Maddie, but her words stuck with her.

“He was a nice person,” the girl had said. “I was never really friends with him, though. But even like this, he looks like he could wake up and say hello. He looks so peaceful…”

Had she remembered wrong?

Maddie paid it no mind and instead focused on the task at hand. Danny’s body laid out on the lab table, she glanced towards the dark hole that was the Fenton Portal. Now for the hard part.

It almost hurt to think back to the day she had found him dead inside it.

_ Maddie and Jack had been in the kitchen working on blueprints for their first invention, the Fenton Ghost Gabber, when they heard Danny scream downstairs. Jack didn’t waste a second standing up and racing downstairs, Maddie on his heels. _

_ Downstairs, the portal was on. _

_ Sickly green light illuminated Jack’s horrified face. Maddie followed his gaze to a charred lump on the floor, half of its body still within the portal.  _

_ She noticed first that it was a human, or perhaps a humanoid ghost. Over most of its body, it wore a lab suit much like the ones they wore themselves. Out of the splayed shape that was its form, Maddie made out locks of hair, clenched fingers, blue earrings… _

Danny’s _ blue earrings. _

_ She heard Jack scream his name as they both rushed to his body. He cradled Danny in his arms as he fell limp against Jack. She brushed his hair out of his face to reveal glassy blue eyes that looked at nothing.  _

_ It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be. _

_ Danny was dead. _

...No. Not for long. He wouldn’t be dead much longer. Not as long as Maddie Fenton had her way.

She was standing just outside the portal now. Fixing it was simple-- connect a few wires where she had severed them before, plug in everything that needed to be plugged in, and hit both  _ on _ switches.

Quietly, Maddie set to work. The wires weren’t hard to find-- they were the main ones that kept the portal sustaining itself. She made quick work of soldering them back together.

She took another look at the dials, examining them to ensure they were in the right order. If conditions weren’t right, another disaster could happen-- like the one in college with Vlad had. She shuddered to remember his hunched form, the green-stained blood running down his hands, dripping from his face. She didn’t want to turn out like that.

No, she wouldn’t. The calculations were right this time-- Jack had written them, and she had double-checked, no-- triple-checked them to ensure that nothing adverse could take effect.

She connected the portal’s cord to the extension cord. A beam of hair-raising energy ricocheted through the frame, snapping on the lights within.

Now to open the portal.

Maddie stepped inside the portal, staying mindful of her step. She didn’t want to end up like Danny any more than she wanted to end up like Vlad.

She found the  _ on _ button. Slowly, she pushed it in.

Nothing happened.

_ Right _ . Maddie stepped outside the portal.  _ One more switch. _

This switch was on the still-rudimentary control panel. Unlike the buttons on the inside, this was just that-- a switch.

Maddie flipped it.

The incandescent lights in the lab flickered as the portal opened in a whirl of green and white. Maddie shielded her eyes, but the light show didn’t last for long.

The portal dimmed to a regular swirl of greens. Ectoplasm popped and buzzed against the atmosphere. The room seemed ten degrees colder.

Maddie stared at Danny’s body, now awash in that green light just like it had been before. She shivered.

“Don’t worry, Danny,” she murmured. “As soon as I bring you back, you won’t ever have to be down here again.”

But bringing him back would be a different story altogether. She had a rough idea of what to do, but she would need the help of both her former colleagues to develop and put in motion the finer points of her plan. Removing her hood, Maddie sighed. It was time to call Vlad.

There were many things Vlad Masters wasn’t expecting at 3:00 AM on a weeknight, the most implausible of which was a phone call from the love of his life.

And yet, he stared at the receiver through bleary eyes to see Maddie’s name and number scrolling across the LED screen.

Swatting a lock of hair out of his face, he picked up the phone with a cordial “Hello?”

Maddie’s musical voice hadn’t lost its spark on Vlad.  _ “Hello, Vlad. I’m sorry to call you so late, but…” _

“No, Maddie, think nothing of it,” Vlad said. “I’m happy to hear your voice.”

_ “Vlad, listen. I know that you’ve been rather… touchy about ectology after what happened in college, but I need your help.” _

Vlad sat up. “What is it?”

_ “My son, Danny. You know about him, right?” _

“Of course,” said Vlad. “My condolences. But… What does he have to do with me?”

_ “I’m going to try and bring him back.” _

That stopped Vlad dead in his tracks. “I’m sorry?”

_ “I’m going to revive my son, Vlad, and I need your help.” _

Now, that was impossible, bordering on ridiculous. Danny had been dead more than a month-- a body like that would be impossible to restart. The vital functions would be completely out of commission, not to mention the very real possibility of bacteria starting to eat away at the body. He didn’t want to break Maddie’s heart, but it had to come out sooner or later. Vlad opted for sooner.

He took a deep breath. “Maddie, I don’t know--”

_ “Are you aware of the regenerative properties of ectoplasm?” _

Of course he was aware. For Pariah’s sake, he was a ghost himself! He knew the ins and outs of it far better than Maddie did. But…

“What are you suggesting?” he asked.

_ “I’m suggesting that in the right circumstances, we can use the ectoplasm to… to restart him. I’ll need everyone’s help, but I think we can do it.” _

_ We… _

Vlad came to a decision. It had never been done before, but in theory, it could work. And if it didn’t… If it didn’t, he would, at the least, get to spend time with Maddie, see her beautiful face once more.

“I’ll help you,” he said.

Wes grabbed Danny before he could hit the ground. A cold tingle rippled through Danny’s body, and he fell right  _ through _ Wes’s arms, landing in a kneel.

“Oh, no,” mouthed Danny. He felt viscerally  _ wrong _ . “No, no, no, no,  _ no. _ ”

“Danny,” said Wes, stepping closer.

“It wasn’t a nightmare,” Danny said. “It was  _ real.  _ She took…” he shuddered again. He took another look into the open grave. “Mom took my body.”

Wes stood there. He seemed unsure of himself again, the way he had been both times Danny had woken up.

“Danny, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do,” Wes said.

Danny had a thought. His eyes flared. “I have to go get it,” he said.

“What?”

Danny picked himself up. “I have to get my body.”

“Danny, wait--” started Wes, but Danny had already shot off the ground, aiming for the beacon that was FentonWorks.

_ Had it always been that far away? _

He had to fly faster. He had to get there faster.

_ He was flying slower. He wouldn’t make it for a good thirty minutes. _

If he didn’t get there fast, something unspeakable would happen.

_ His feet touched the sidewalk, followed by his knees, followed by his face. _

He had to get his body back, back before… 

_ There was a flash of light, then blackness. _

“... _ had to be  _ some  _ reason he fell asleep on the sidewalk…” _

_ “...running from something…?” _

_ “...wouldn’t have…” _

Danny woke up with a sigh. Brushing dark hair out of his face, he realized he was in Tucker’s room, in Tucker’s bed. Over him, Sam and Tucker were discussing something. Something to do with him.

“Come on, Sam,” Tucker was saying. “It’s below freezing outside, and Danny was just lying there. He wasn’t even curled up like he usually is or anything. He had to have been on the move.”

“Then what?” asked Sam. “It’s weird that he just passed out like that. Did something happen in the time we were looking for him?”

Danny’s stomach growled. “Well,” he started, making them both jump. “I’m super hungry, so let’s start with that.”

“Gotcha.” Sam reached into her bag and tossed Danny a banana. “I was saving that for later, but you need it more than me.”

Danny scarfed it down. Between bites, he asked, “So how did you find me?”

“That one’s easy,” Tucker said. “We were out looking for you all night. So imagine how I felt when we found you dead asleep in front of my house.”

“I’d imagine tired,” Danny said.

“The real question is, why were you dead asleep like that?” asked Sam. “You could have just gone into the house, you know.”

“I was… running after something,” Danny started, then froze. “Man, that is such a weird thing to confess,” he said to himself.

“What?” Tucker and Sam said in unison.

“My own body. Mom robbed my grave last night, and I was running-- well, flying --after her.”

“What would she want your body for?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know,” Danny said. “But what I do know is that I have to get it back into the grave, stat.” He paused. “Somehow, it doesn’t feel as urgent when I’m, uh, not a ghost.”

“Well, maybe it’s the ghost talking,” Tucker suggested. “With the whole ‘being dead’ thing and all. It’s only natural to want to stay that way.”

“Yeah,” Danny said. “Stay that way.” He straightened. “It’s so bizarre. Having completely different wants and needs depending on what I frickin’  _ look like. _ ”

“So, what do you want now?” Sam asked.

“To play more music,” Danny said flatly, prompting a laugh from Tucker.

“Well, I have great news for you,” said Sam, holding up Danny’s keytar case. “Keytar’s still intact.”

“Wh… Where did you find that?” stammered Danny. “I didn’t take that with me to the cemetery.”

“Some redhead was wandering the streets calling your name,” Sam said. “Weird guy. Anyway, I asked him for it politely, and he was nice enough to actually give it to me.”

“She mugged him,” Tucker corrected. “She absolutely mugged that guy.”

“Aw, man,” Danny said. “Wes is a really nice guy, too.”

“You know him?” Sam said.

“He’s in my English class,” Danny said. “Also, he saw me change back, but let’s overlook that part for now.”

“He saw you transform?” asked Tucker. “That means he knows your secret! He could spill on you anytime!”

“Look, I trust the guy. If he wanted to spill my secret, it would be halfway across Amity Park by now.”

“He can still blackmail you!” exclaimed Tucker. “He could still threaten you into doing anything he wants.”

“Tucker, be reasonable,” Sam cut in. “Even if he does spill, who’s going to believe something as crazy as that? ‘That weird guy we saw around the other day is actually Amity Park star Danny Fenton’? That’s a tabloid headline if I’ve ever seen one.”

“I guess,” Danny laughed. “But I-”

Danny stopped as his throat seemed to ice over. In front of him, his breath clouded.

“What was  _ that? _ ” asked Sam.

“No idea,” Danny admitted. “I hope it’s nothing.”

Luck was not on his side.

Behind Danny, the window shattered. He gasped, the chill in his throat even stronger than before. His friends ducked as something massive leapt towards them. Something massive, and glowing, and green.

_ A ghost? _

Danny leapt out of bed, landing on his feet ready to fight. Or run. Whichever happened to be the best course of action.

Now that he was up, he got a better look at the ghost. It floated at twice his height, and if it wasn’t hunched over Tucker, its head would have gone through the ceiling. 

It was comprised of a singular mass that was its head, with four lashing limbs at its bottom that looked and acted like tails. It clicked and hissed intermittently, a noise that sent shivers down Danny’s spine.

He had to do something. He had to help Tucker.

His eyes flicked to Sam, creeping up behind the ghost. It drew back, then lunged for Tucker.

Everything froze.

Then, all at once, everything happened.

Sam drove her fist into its back. It whirled around, carnivorous mouth gaping. Danny leapt.

He called upon his ghost half, and felt the chill climb up his body. He flew into the ghost, knocking it off Tucker and well away from Sam. It screeched at Danny, showing off every single one of its wickedly hooked fangs. One of its tails wrapped around Danny, holding him tight in its grasp. Wait-- they weren’t tails. They were tentacles. Of course. This thing was an  _ ectopus _ .

Danny struggled against the tentacle to no avail. It drew closer to the ectopus’s mouth. Tucker was screaming his name. Danny’s heart hammered in his chest. Blindly, he drew his fist back and threw a punch right between the ectopus’s eyes.

It sunk far deeper than Danny expected. He drew his fist out, shaking the ectoplasm off of it. The ectopus shrank back, hissing. It let Danny go, dropping him on the floor. Without another move, it vanished. Soon, Danny’s heaving was the only sound in the room.

His heartbeat slowed. Soon, it encompassed him. Gravity took hold of him, dropping his hair in his face rather ungracefully. The ice disappeared from his throat. The room remained thick with tension.

Finally, Tucker broke the silence. “Whoa.”

“Danny, you just fought off a  _ ghost! _ ” marveled Sam. “Is that crazy or what?”

“It’s crazy,” Danny confirmed, turning to face them. “How did a ghost get here, anyway?”

“The Fenton Portal?” Sam suggested.

“Sam, the Fenton Portal’s been shut down for a while now,” Tucker said. “That can’t be where it came from.”

“Unless it’s been reopened,” Danny said.

Tucker snapped around. “What?”

“I overheard a conversation yesterday,” said Danny. “Well, I was eavesdropping. But Dad said they were going to get back into ectology. That means reopening the Fenton Portal.”

“Wait, wait.” Sam held up a finger. “Do you think that your mom stealing your body has anything to do with their delve back into ectology?”

“Actually, yes,” Danny realized. “The other night, I heard Dad say that they were going to try to… revive me.”

“Revive you?” Tucker drew back. “But you’re already alive!”

“So they won’t succeed,” Sam said.

“I don’t know if that’s right,” Danny said. “Because in my nightmare the other night? I was  _ in _ my body. I was my own corpse.”

“So you’re saying you could wake up in your own body?” Sam asked.

“Adverse effects and all,” Danny confirmed. “I couldn’t feel  _ anything _ in my dream. I couldn’t move either. I don’t think my body’s taken well to being filled with formaldehyde. If… if they manage to bring me back, it could be disastrous. I don’t even think I’d be  _ me _ anymore.”

“So what do we do?” asked Tucker.

“We hide it,” Danny declared. “We find my body and hide it so she can’t find it. We can bury it somewhere unmarked, or throw it in Lake Eerie, or…”

“We get it,” Tucker said. “We’ll help you.” Sam nodded in agreement.

A smile lit Danny’s face. “Thanks, guys. This means a lot.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” said Sam. “Another second we spend here is a second closer you get to waking up in your own corpse.”

“You’re right,” Danny said. “Let’s go.”

Maddie examined Danny’s body, making sure everything was just so. Next to her, Vlad sifted through tools absentmindedly. He almost seemed hesitant to get started, a direct contrast to her own shaking hands. She could see the day she held her son in her arms again, his arms around her the way they always were.

First, they had to reverse everything cosmetic the coroner had done. The eyes were open already, thankfully, so one step was removed from the procedure. The jaw had to be reopened-- no large feat, but still rather tedious.

Once that was done, the formaldehyde had to be drained from the body and replaced with a saline Maddie had prepared using atmospheric ectoplasm she had collected from the portal. Although not nearly as strong as the ectoplasm she might get from a ghost, the concentration in this saline would facilitate regrowth-- regrowth of blood cells, regrowth of skin and muscle tissue, regrowth of neurons…

Maddie couldn’t wait for the day she would see Danny smile again.

Upstairs, she heard footsteps.

Her eyes narrowed. Jack was out with Jazz, and he had the only other key. It couldn’t be them. Besides, the voices she heard-- a girl’s loud, and a boy’s softer, didn’t sound like them. It sounded like Danny’s friends, Tucker and Sam. Why were they here?  _ How  _ were they here?

She set down the IV line she had been holding. “Vlad, I’m going upstairs to check on something. Can you hold down the fort?”

“Of course, Maddie,” said Vlad. “Anything for you.”

She smiled to herself. Vlad had all the culture of a man of his status. The smile dropped as she walked into the kitchen to see Tucker and Sam.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

Tucker’s eyes widened, and he stammered, trying to respond.

“Mrs. Fenton!” Sam interrupted. “We were, uh, looking for something of Danny’s. Would you still happen to have his, uh…” She looked to the side, lips pursed, as if she was listening to someone. It only lasted for a second, then she straightened. “His notebook?”

Maddie crossed her arms. “Now, wait just a second. Danny’s notebook was very personal. He didn’t want anyone in our family seeing it.”

“It’s okay!” Tucker interjected. “Danny, um, wanted us to have it if anything happened to him. He said it at school one day.”

“Really?” said Maddie. She was still suspicious.

_ “Go!” _ hissed Sam.  _ “Stop talking to me and go!”  _ Tucker didn’t waste a second shushing her.

“Are you talking to someone?” Maddie asked.

“No,” said the kids in unison.

Maddie frowned. Something was amiss.

“Well, I do have his notebook,” said Maddie, “But I’ll have to look for it. Jack has a system, but I can’t begin to work it out.” She put her hands on their shoulders. “But I’m busy right now, and I can’t help you. You should come back later.” 

When she got to the door, she froze.

The lock was still in place.

The man with white hair stood alone over the cadaver, considering the best way to go about its renewal. After all, embalming a corpse was easy. Un-embalming it was considerably more difficult. 

During embalming, the blood was drained from the corpse's body and replaced with formaldehyde. The man would have to work out how to safely replace it with the ectoplasm solution Maddie had concocted. 

He shook his head. The way it was now, he feared, the body was unsalvageable. Daniel would never come back to life like Maddie hoped he could.

Above him, the boy with white hair watched with wide eyes and trembling hands. Staring at his dead body was unsettling. Watching an unfamiliar man toy with it, fiddling with IV tubes and lifting his wrist only to watch it fall limp again, was disturbing in a way he couldn't put into thoughts.

He had to get that body back.

Danny drifted in closer, hoping he wouldn't disturb the man somehow. He was invisible, he reassured himself. The man wouldn't see him. It's okay.

"And what do you think you're doing?" the man said, apparently to nothing in particular. Danny froze.

"That's right, ghost, I'm talking to you." The man turned around. "What are you doing in this lab?"

Danny decided there was no point in staying invisible. Even as he dropped the cover, though, he felt bare.

"Leave the body alone," he said shakily. "Put it back."

The man laughed. It was a hearty noise, but it sent shivers down Danny's spine. "What are you?" he asked. His eyes gleamed. Danny stared into them, captivated, and saw unnatural streaks of ruby red within the blue of his irises. "The gravekeeper ghost?"

"My name is Phantom," Danny said, rubbing his throat. It felt raw with cold. "Put the body back," he repeated.

"I don't think so," said the man. "I made a promise to my beloved Maddie to bring this boy back to life, and I intend to see it through." 

His presence was overwhelming now. Danny sensed wisps of electricity in the air, rich as wine and just as bitter. His breath clouded. "Now, gravekeeper,” continued the man, “I will ask you once to leave. If you do not, I will force you out. Understand?"

Danny was shaking like a leaf, but he had to stop this. "Please," he tried once more. "Just leave me alone."

The man stood up straight. "I gave you your chance, ghost." The room was filled with a deep purple glow. Danny watched in amazement as a black halo appeared around the man's waist, then split, revealing…

A ghost.

Danny was frozen. It couldn't be. The man was just like him?

The ghost darted forward, seizing Danny by the hood of his suit. "Don't say a thing, and I'll make it quick. Resist, however..." The man's fingertips glowed. "Resist, and I will make your evisceration as painful as I possibly can."

Danny looked into the ghost's eyes, whose red seemed to fill the whole room, the whole world. It was then that Danny knew he didn't have a fighting chance. He was going to die at the hands of this ghost, who would then spend the rest of his life trying to revive him. It wasn't fair.

"Please," he whispered. "Please, help me."

Danny had felt ghostly pain before, he realized. For the first time, he remembered the lab accident.

The moment he had hit that on switch, he realized that he had made a mistake. The moment after, he had felt like his whole body was being lit on fire, inside and outside.

He remembered a chill creeping from his throat into his head then into his arms and legs. He remembered feeling frozen and brittle, the searing pain of the fire all the while present.

He remembered shattering.

Now, he knew that same fire, that same ice, that same feeling. Stinging claws reached inside him, grasping for its source, shredding it where it found it. All at once, the fire and ice were replaced with a blinding white pain. His scream then could have shattered glass. He had to get rid of the problem. He had to get rid of the pain, which meant getting rid of the other ghost…

Or getting rid of himself.

In a rush, he reached for that shard of warmth, his heart beating slow and slower still as more and more of his green-stained lifeblood spilled out on the floor.

He'd never been so relieved to have such a bright light shine on him.

Gravity took hold of him, dropping him to the ground. The hazmat disappeared, loosing the ghost's grip on him. He slid out of the ghost's grasp easily, gasping as he hit the ground.

His last thought before nothing at all was that,  _ shoot, Mom would kill him for staining the lab floor _ .

If there was one thing Vlad had learned about ectoplasm, it was that it could be used as a fast-acting growth hormone. It was the reason his ecto-acne had developed so quickly, it was the reason ghosts could duplicate, it was the reason ghosts healed so rapidly.

And somehow, it was the reason Vlad was staring at a perfect copy of Daniel Fenton, down to the studs in his ears, bleeding out on the lab floor.

If Vlad wasn't pressed for time by the current situation, he would have started theorizing how a ghost could have built a living, breathing, bleeding body for itself.

But he was pressed for time, and he had to do something before Daniel died for the second time.

Taking a deep breath, he let himself go intangible and overshadowed the boy's body.

In Daniel’s body, Vlad stood up, putting pressure on the wound. It was still bleeding, which meant Vlad still had time. With his free hand, he grabbed the toolkit Maddie had lent him. Inside was a needle and thread-- minutely useful for the task he had been made to do, but infinitely helpful for what he needed to do now.

With every stitch came another shudder from Daniel's body. "Hold still, damn you," Vlad muttered. "It's life or death, Daniel."

Finally, Vlad got the last stitch in. They were a mess, but they got the job done. Daniel was safe. His ghost would heal in time, too, Vlad knew. It was hard to keep a ghost dead, and with a human body to aid it, it would be a day or two at most before the ghostly core had fully repaired itself.

His work done, Vlad removed himself from Daniel's body and reverted to his own human form.

Now for the deal of the mess.

Sighing, Vlad split himself into four and started work. Within ten minutes, the lab was spotless, if one overlooked the heaving body of a blood-soaked teenager against the wall.

As for Daniel...

Danny woke up bleary-eyed and miserable. He felt bad, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. The normal depression in his chest felt like an open cavity now. He would have checked to confirm that it in fact was one, but even moving took more effort than he was capable of giving.

_ What the hell happened? _

He thought back. The man with white hair had seen him, then had threatened him, then…

He was a ghost. The man with white hair was just like him.

And he  _ had _ carved a hole in Danny's chest.

That would explain a couple things, Danny thought. But it didn't explain how he was still breathing, how his heart was still beating.

It definitely didn't explain how Danny wasn't bleeding to death on the lab floor.

It was then that Danny noticed. The patch of icy cold in his throat was missing. He mentally searched around for it, but it was gone.

His ghost half wasn't there.

Danny gasped, then immediately regretted it as his chest protested violently. He doubled over, just barely stopping himself from falling onto the floor. He heard footsteps.

"Hello, Daniel," the man with white hair said.

Danny tried to turn to face the man, and found he couldn't. He tried to move, to do something, and couldn't. He opened his mouth and found that he couldn't speak without pain. In a word, he was helpless. A sitting duck to whatever else the man would do to him.

"Don't move," the man said. "Getting those stitches in was hard enough as it was. Neither of us wants to do it again, I'm sure."

Stitches? Did that mean the man had closed the wound?

Danny didn't understand. But he remembered something.

He remembered moving without moving, feeling needle and thread shoved into his skin, but not of his own will. He felt his own voice carry the man's words.

He had been  _ possessed _ ?

"I assume you have questions," said the man.

"My name is Vlad Masters," he started, "and I was a colleague of both your parents. An ectologist, just like them.

"One time, it so happened that we built a faulty ghost portal, not unlike the one in your basement. And your father Jack Fenton failed to take the precautions that would have kept me from exposure to that portal. I was blasted  _ point blank _ with ectoplasm. I barely survived,” he spat.

"So now," Vlad said, "I have a ghost side, just like you. But you seem to be a different story altogether."

"What?" Danny whispered through a wince.

"Well, Daniel, I'm still alive," answered Vlad. "Everyone who knows me knows that. You, on the other hand…

"You need no introduction, especially not to yourself. Danny Fenton, the rising star of Amity Park. A pop star who made national news when he died, and will surely make global news when he comes back to life."

_ Back to life _ ? Danny's eyes widened. Right. That was what Vlad was trying to do. That was what Mom was trying to do. Bring him back.

"And now that you're here, Daniel, my job has just become much easier."

Danny heard Vlad step towards him. He shrank into himself.

"It's simple, Daniel. You present yourself to Maddie, good as new, you can get back to your life, and I earn her affection."

Daniel lay there. His fingers twitched. His energy was coming back, much faster than it should have-- but not his powers.

"What do you say?" asked Vlad.

Danny took a deep breath, then braced his arms against the floor. Straining against the pain in his chest, he picked himself up.

"Put my body back," he managed, barely standing.

Vlad would have responded, but a shot from behind him clipped his ear. He turned, but not before the shot plowed straight into Danny, throwing him against the wall and onto the ground.

"Vlad," said Maddie Fenton, standing in the doorway, ecto-gun in hand, "what is the meaning of this? Why do I see some... imitation of my son in front of me?"

"Maddie, I'll need you to be reasonable," said Vlad. "This is your son."

"You really expect me to believe that?" hissed Maddie. She strode down level to Vlad. "My son is lying there, on that table. You're not reviving him. You're trying to  _ replace _ him."

"Maddie-"

"And you," Maddie said, jabbing a finger into Danny's shirt, the red spot on it much darker than before, "what are you? A shapeshifter? A ghost?" She leveled the gun on Danny's throat. "You can't fool me."

"Step away, hunter," said Vlad from behind Maddie. Danny saw him turn into his vampiric ghost form, then... split himself in half?

One Vlad changed back into a human, and the ghostly Vlad wasted no time in throwing that Vlad into a lab table with a mighty crash.

"I've already done away with your backup," spat the ghost. "Now, give me my ghost, or I will make sure you never see your son smile again."

Maddie glanced at the lab table. Fear, then rage, sparked in her eyes. She trained her gun on the ghost now. "You will not touch him."

Danny saw his chance. To his left, a green light shone. The Fenton Portal was open.

And it was his only way out.

While Maddie was distracted, he lifted himself to his feet and made a break for the Portal.

He stopped just short of the entrance. He hesitated. Was it safe? The last time he'd been in there…

" _ Hey _ !"

Danny turned and saw Maddie and Vlad both aiming at him. Without a second thought, he forced his aching legs the last few feet into the Ghost Zone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn't put the fentons on trial because i didnt want to. next question


	3. danny phantom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hooty hoo this took a hot second. i'm juggling around plot details like a jingling little jester trying not to drop things everywhere. i really hope i can make this all work out

Danny was airborne for a long time. He couldn't go ghost, so he couldn't fly-- he was helpless until he happened to grab hold of something.

Which didn't look like it was going to happen anytime soon.

He looked around. Nothing he saw made sense.

Escher, he remembered. M.C. Escher had been an artist he had done a report on back in elementary school. He didn't remember much about the guy, but he remembered what his paintings looked like-- impossible shapes, staircases leading to nowhere, structures that could exist only within the painting…

Now he felt as if he was floating through one of those paintings, plus a generous helping of lime Jell-O. Nothing made sense, until you looked at it closely and understood it perfectly, then watched it fade out of focus and become impossible once again.

"So this is where ghosts live…” he murmured.

He had to stop eventually, he assumed. It would just be a waiting game until he did.

So he waited, trying not to think of things that could be out there waiting to tear him apart like Vlad had.

So he waited, curling into himself and trying not to shiver from fear and cold and exhaustion.

So he waited, barely noticing everything grow darker and darker.

Danny didn’t realize he had fallen asleep until he woke up. He heard soft strumming of a guitar, light humming beside it. It echoed around him, filling the area.

Before long, the humming turned to soft singing.

_ “It was, it was September; winds blow, the dead leaves fall. _

_ To you, I did surrender. Two weeks; you didn’t call.” _

Danny opened his eyes. He was lying flat on his back in what appeared to be an auditorium. Above him, the roof flickered with all shades of green and blue, as if it was ready to burst into flame.

_ “Your life goes on without me; my life’s a losing game. _

_ But you should, you should not doubt me. You will remember my name.” _

Danny turned his head towards the stage. On it was one lone ghost.

She looked like a metalhead. Not literally, though, considering her hair was swept into a flickering ponytail made of blue flame. Green eyes stood out against clammy blue skin, accented by marks and swirls at the corners.

She wore all black, an asymmetrical shirt and one glove over leather pants with a huge spiked belt. Her skull-shaped platform boots looked to be about six inches high. She looked  _ awesome. _

But her posture was that of someone tired. She had her head down, eyes on the ground, as she sat cross-legged onstage. She held her guitar gently, playing at the strings even more so. Her singing grew smooth, emotion breaking through here and there:

_ “Oh, Ember, you will remember! Ember, one thing remains. _

_ Ember, so warm and tender! _

_ You will remember my name…” _

She stopped there and slowly let her arms drop to the ground. “...What’s the point?” she murmured.

Danny shifted, lifting himself off the ground. He glanced down at himself and froze.

His shirt was next to him, in tatters. His bare chest was no longer soaked in blood, but beneath his stitches, a blue-white light pulsated.  _ What was that…? _

He became aware of a cool pressure in his throat. It was nowhere near the icy presence that was normally there, but it was better than nothing. He mentally prodded at it, trying to trigger his transformation. The light grew brighter, but nothing else happened.

Frowning, he tried something else. Silently, he commanded himself to disappear. Slowly, his outline faded, but he wasn’t as much invisible as he was just  _ transparent _ . Furthermore, calling upon it felt as if he was holding his breath-- it took more concentration with every passing second. Sighing, he dropped his focus and let himself flicker back into visibility.

“Freaky little powers you got there, human.”

Danny jumped. In his concentration, he hadn’t noticed the ghost walk up right under his nose. She smirked down at him now.

“What’s with you, anyway?” she asked, crouching to get a better look at him. “Are you dead or what?”

“Where am I?” Danny asked in turn.

“My lair,” said the ghost. “I was flyin’ around looking for an audience. Imagine my surprise when I see a half-dead human floating in the air, out cold, looking like he’d just gone through a forest’s worth of brambles.”

Danny ran a hand through his hair. True to the ghost’s word, it was full of all sorts of ghostly flora. “That explains the shirt,” he noted.

“Nah, I took that off cause it was covered in blood. All sorts of gross.” The ghost grimaced. “And that’s when I found out you had a core. Freaky, huh?”

“So you… just left me on the ground?” Danny asked.

“I might have a problem with procrastination. Besides, uh, you’re still alive, and I don’t know how to deal with alive humans.” She paused. “You’re alive, right?”

“I don’t know,” Danny admitted, drawing his legs into a kneel. “I’m kind of a special case.”

“Like, you’re half human and half ghost?” the ghost mused. “Halfa?”

“I guess.”

“Very cool,” the ghost said. She extended her hand. “I’m Ember. Ghost rockstar extraordinaire!”

Danny took her hand, standing up to face her. “Danny,” he said. “Dead popstar.”

“Hey, you play music too?” said Ember, eyes brightening. “We should play together sometime!” She glanced down, a frown crossing her face. “Though there’s the problem of who to play to…”

“Huh?” Danny straightened. “Do you mean there are no ghosts to play to around here?”

“They’re all busy,” Ember lamented, her hair lashing like an annoyed cat’s tail. “Clockwork, maybe, but he lives too far away…”

“You’ve never played for humans?” Danny asked.

“How would I do that?” scoffed Ember. “You need a portal for that, and I don’t exactly see one popping up and staying that way long enough for me to set up a concert.”

“I came through a portal,” Danny said.

That got Ember’s attention. “Really?”

“An artificial one. My parents built it between Amity Park and the Ghost Zone.”

“Hey, that’s not far from here,” Ember noted. She looked down at Danny. “Say, what do you think of flying out to Elmerton and putting on the show of your afterlife?”

“I’d say it doesn’t sound bad,” Danny said. “But-”

Ember had stopped listening. She hooked her arms around Danny and took off, phasing through the ceiling and into the Ghost Zone. “Then we don’t have a second to lose, Danny!”

After some thought, Vlad decided that yes, things had gone terribly wrong.

He had agreed to help Maddie try to revive-- no,  _ restart _ her son’s body, only to discover that the boy was already a ghost. Not even a full ghost, at that-- Daniel was living, the same anomaly as Vlad himself was.

And Maddie had discovered him, too. But it was obvious what she thought of ghosts-- she hadn’t hesitated to shoot him point-blank, and surely would have killed the boy had Vlad not intervened.

Now Maddie paced around the lab, repeatedly running a hand through her hair, the same way she had been doing for the past few hours while Vlad had undone the embalming on the body. On occasion, she hissed, like a jaguar that had lost sight of its prey. 

Vlad took a deep breath. He had to console her. “Maddie, I--”

“I don’t want to hear a word from you, Vlad,” Maddie snapped. “You’re not trying to bring my son back to life. You’re just trying to make me  _ feel better. _ ” She stopped and looked him in the eye. “I will not have Danny be  _ replaced _ . I can bring him back.  _ We  _ can bring him back.” She paused. “Are you afraid of that?”

Vlad realized something he wasn’t quite able to articulate. Something to do with the ship of Theseus, something to do with questions of identity, something to do with…

“Maddie,” he started, “if we do bring Daniel back with the method you propose, will it still be Daniel?”

Maddie stopped, then carefully responded. “Of course,” she said, but Vlad noticed the waver in her voice. “Of course it will. It’s still Danny’s mind.”

“Yes,” said Vlad. He dropped the subject as Maddie continued around the lab. “Of course.”

Vlad had to figure out something, some course of action to take in the case that it  _ wasn’t _ . Ectoplasm might facilitate growth magnificently, but in the wrong conditions, it was volatile. Destructive. He remembered his own accident and his outbreak of ecto-acne. There wasn’t a day that he hadn’t spent in pain and misery. The face of his ghost looked nothing like his own-- the slow burning away of ghostly tissue by the ectoplasm had ensured that.

He didn’t want that for Daniel, or whoever would wake up in his body.

A plan, Vlad concluded, he needed a plan. Somehow, he had to sabotage Maddie’s experiments. If he couldn’t do that, then he had to make certain Daniel didn’t go through the same agony he himself had faced. The second one would be better, he thought, as it was the course of action that kept him in Maddie’s good graces. 

She was desperate, he knew, desperate to have her son back. And if Vlad could, he would indulge her on that request.

_ What about Daniel’s ghost? _ a notion in the back of his mind whispered. Vlad dismissed it. If everything went right, Daniel would wake up in his body, perhaps frightened and disoriented, but adjusting wouldn’t take long.

At least, adjusting to his own body hadn’t taken long for Vlad. He didn’t see why Daniel would be different.

Maddie stopped pacing and walked over to Daniel’s corpse. Vlad watched as she set up an IV drip filled with the saline, and with a moment’s hesitation, hooked it into the body.

“There,” Vlad heard her say. “It won’t be long now, Danny.”

Vlad gazed towards the portal. He realized that Maddie was right-- he  _ was _ scared. This kind of procedure had never been artificially done before, and if it succeeded, it would make medical history.

If it failed, however…

Raphael was  _ pissed _ at himself. He had let Danny fly off, probably into immediate danger, and gotten his keytar stolen, too. His first interaction with possibly the coolest kid at Casper High, and he had proven himself to be lousy at possibly everything you  _ could _ be lousy at.

He left the house first thing in the morning, grabbing a jacket and taking every shortcut he could towards FentonWorks. He assumed Maddie Fenton would be there, and she had been the graverobber, right? Danny was there, no doubt about it.

The only doubt was with what Maddie was doing to him. Raphael shivered. Two passersby caught his attention, caught deep in discussion.

“He said he was just there to get it and go, but he didn’t come back! Where could he be?” said the boy on the left.  _ Get what? _

“Maybe he went through the portal,” said the girl next to him.

_ The portal? _

The boy continued. “The portal was turned off weeks ago, Sam! He’s--”

“Hey- excuse me,” interrupted Raphael. “Are you talking about the Fenton Portal?”

Immediately, the girl--  _ Sam _ \--drew up an excuse. “No, no, we were talking about a Dungeons and Dragons campaign. We--” She paused. Recognition flashed in her eyes. “Wait. Aren’t you Wes?”

“Huh? How do you…” Raphael took her in. He remembered the night before-- he had been hurrying through the streets, Danny’s keytar in hand, when somebody had grabbed his wrist and taken him to the ground in one neat sweep before racing off with the keytar. Raphael had followed, of course, but they had shaken him within five minutes.

Raphael realized now that this was his mugger. She certainly had the build for it-- tall without being lanky, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. “Oh.  _ That’s _ how,” he thought.

Sam held out her hand for Raphael to shake. “Sam Manson. Great to meet you.”

“Raphael Weston. Decidedly less so,” he said in turn, shaking her hand. He turned to the boy. “You?”

The boy shook his hand. “Tucker Foley.” He dropped the handshake almost immediately. “So you’re looking for Danny, too?”

Raphael nodded. “He just flew off. I know the Fentons have a lot of anti-ghost tech, so I thought he might be in danger.”

Sam frowned. “That’s the thing. We were just at FentonWorks, Danny too, and then he just  _ disappeared. _ He went into the lab, and then he didn’t come back out. I thought he could have gone into the Fenton Portal, but it’s been off for a long time now.”

“Maybe they turned it back on,” Raphael mused. “I mean, they’re ectologists, right? What better way to mess with a body than pump ectoplasm into it and hope it reboots?”

“You could be right…” said Tucker.

“Mrs. Fenton kicked us out, though,” replied Sam. “With our luck, she locked the door behind her.”

“Do they have a back door?” asked Raphael automatically.

“Are you always this quick at making ways to break into people’s houses?” asked Tucker.

“They do,” Sam said.

“My house only has one key, and my dad keeps it on him,” said Raphael. “I work with what I have.”

“Good luck,” Sam said. “We’ll go… We’ll go somewhere. If you find him, let us know.”

They swapped numbers. Raphael rushed now, with new purpose, to FentonWorks. He tried the front door. Just like Sam had predicted, it was locked.

He nodded to himself and walked around to the side of the house. It was fenced in, but over it, sure enough, Raphael spotted a door.

Glancing around him to make sure nobody was about to watch him commit a crime, Raphael hitched a foot in between two posts and hopped the fence. He dropped into the snowy grass with ease.  _ Guess it pays being tall. _

In front of him, the back door stood. He tried it, and lo and behold, it was unlocked. “Wow. My first break-in that isn’t my own house! I’m moving up in the world,” he joked.

His voice faded quickly, leaving him in silence in the living room. He heard voices downstairs, wafting through the kitchen. One a woman’s, and one a man’s. Raphael squinted. The man’s accent sounded familiar.

Raphael crept into the kitchen, towards the hallway into the lab, but threw himself against the wall when he saw moving shadows.

Footsteps, up the stairs. Raphael pressed himself into the wall.

Finally, the person came out. It was a man-- broad in stature and almost as tall as Raphael himself. He ran a hand through his hair, seeming not to notice Raphael.

_ Wait a second. Is that Dad’s boss? _

Walter Weston was an official for DALV Co., and if Raphael wasn’t mistaken, this man was Vlad Masters, CEO of said company.  _ What? How deep does this whole thing go? _

Vlad turned, coming scarily close to spotting Raphael, then walked out of the kitchen and out the door. Or, at least, Raphael  _ thought _ he had walked out the door. Vlad hadn’t made a sound.

Raphael made his way towards the front door where he had seen Vlad leave. Sure enough, it was locked.  _ Was Vlad still in the house? _

Staring at the door, a thought occurred to Raphael. He remembered the night before, in the graveyard. When Danny had dropped to the ground, Raphael had tried to catch him, but his arms had gone right through Danny.

Could Vlad be…?

_ No, no, _ his thoughts berated him.  _ You’re being ridiculous. Vlad Masters isn’t a ghost. He’s alive. _

_ But then again…  _

The sound of shattering glass knocked Raphael out of his thoughts.  _ Right. I forgot about the lab! _ He raced towards the kitchen, towards the lab entrance. He heard the woman downstairs curse.

While she was distracted, Raphael decided he would sneak downstairs and get a grasp on what had happened to Danny. One by one, he took the stairs, hoping with all his might that the woman wouldn’t be facing his way when he made it downstairs.

He put his weight on the last stair. It creaked.

“Jazz, is that you?” said the woman. Raphael got a glimpse of her, back turned to him. She was wearing a typical Fenton Hazmat, with the hood up. On her hip was a pouch no doubt full to the brim with anti-ghost tech. All in all, it was what Raphael had expected Maddie Fenton to look like.

Behind her stood the Fenton Portal. It was on, Raphael saw, bathing the room in yellow-green light everywhere the laboratory lights didn’t overpower it. Looking into the Portal itself was almost like looking at the sun-- bright and captivating, but painful to look at for more than a few seconds. When Raphael looked away, the afterimage seemed to writhe.

“Jazz?” she repeated. Raphael said nothing. His eyes wandered around the room, taking in lab equipment, tools he could barely guess the purpose of, bags full of what looked to be ectoplasm--

Danny’s corpse.

Maddie turned around at Raphael’s sharp gasp. As soon as she laid eyes on him, her expression hardened. “Who are you?” she demanded.

“Uh-” Raphael’s eyes darted around, looking for something, something to help his case. His eyes landed on the body.

“Answer my question!” Maddie snapped. “Who are you and what are you doing in my lab?”

Raphael ignored the question. “What are you doing to him?” he asked, gesturing at Danny’s nauseatingly still body.

“I-” Maddie stopped. She marched over to him. Despite being at least three inches shorter than Raphael, she exerted an attitude of dominance that made him shrink back. “Listen to me. What I’m doing will revolutionize everything we know about life and death. If this all goes right, nobody will have to grieve again.”

“You’re trying to bring him back to life?” Raphael realized. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out the truth. “But he’s already alive!”

Maddie took a step back. “Nonsense. There’s no way…” She took her eyes off the ground and looked at him. “You saw the shapeshifter.”

Raphael felt guilty that he’d broken his promise to Danny, but the truth came before anything else right now. “No! That  _ was _ Danny. I talked to him. He had a nightmare about you stealing his body. He doesn’t want…”

Maddie wasn’t listening to him, he noticed. She was turned towards the portal. Raphael noticed a soft buzzing that hadn’t been there before. It got louder and louder, then--

The room flashed green. A blue ghost with a manic grin shot out of the portal. She appeared to be holding something, but Raphael didn’t see anything in her arms.

_ No, wait-- _

Raphael saw the faint outline of somebody, as if he were looking through glass. It flickered, just for a second, and he saw Danny, just as surprised to see him as Raphael was seeing the ghost.

Maddie shook herself out of her stupor and immediately drew a small ecto-weapon from the pouch. She didn’t waste a second in firing it at the ghost.

Fluidly, the ghost dodged the shot and flew straight up, into and through the ceiling. As if on cue, Maddie raced up the stairs after them.

Raphael followed, climbing the stairs two at a time. He burst into the kitchen, only to stop dead in his tracks in front of Jasmine Fenton.

She stared at him likewise. “Um… excuse me?”

Ember, for one, was thrilled at the prospect of playing and having people listen to it. It’d been fifteen years since she’d died, give or take, and not once in that time had she gotten ghosts to listen to her. And now? She was about to let a city hear her!

And the Danny kid, too, but mostly her.

Said Danny kid was fidgeting in her arms. “Uh, Ember?” he started. “I’m really not prepared for this. At all.”

“Relax, kid!” said Ember. “It’ll be fine!”

“Uh, not really?” said Danny. “My friends have my keytar, I don’t know how your song goes, and, in case you’ve forgotten,” he dropped his invisibility, making his scabbed-over, bare chest apparent, “I’m shirtless. I’m NOT ready.”

“You got a point,” Ember mused. “And I do want to hear you play.” She weighed her options.

If she let Danny get ready, it would mean more time before she got to perform, which rang  _ bad _ for her eager thoughts. But she would get to hear his playing. 

Alternatively, if she dropped him and stole the show for herself, it would bathe her in the limelight, and she would get all the credit for the performance she had just pulled off. But she wasn’t  _ that _ selfish.

Ember huffed. A little waiting wouldn’t kill her. Or exorcise her. “Alright, Danny,” she said. “You lead the way.”

“Thanks!” he said. “We’re not far from the Nasty Burger. Can you see it from here?”

“Don’t need to,” Ember said. “Unless the Nasty Burger and the Tasty Burger are different facilities.” 

“They’re not. It just changed its name,” Danny answered.

Ember nodded. She remembered her first date there at the Tasty Burger. Contrary to its name, the food there had been nauseating. She supposed the name fit the bill now. She flew towards it, speeding up when she saw the fluorescent sign.

“Weird,” Ember said, making a landing and setting Danny down in the parking lot. “A lot’s changed in fifteen years.”

“I guess it has,” said Danny. He turned to Ember suddenly, a strange look on his face. “You wouldn’t happen to have an extra shirt, would you?”

“Nope.”

“Alright. I’ll just see what Sam has,” Danny said.

“Have fun,” said Ember, turning away and readying her guitar. Absentmindedly, she played a few chords, smiling as they echoed around the lot. Perks of a ghost included no need to drag an amplifier around. Ember looked down and began playing from memory a song that had been popular a decade or so before her death.

_ “A baby I was when you took my hand, yeah, the light of the night burned bright. The people all stared, didn’t understand, but you knew my name on sight. _

_ “Whatever came of you and me; America’s new bride-to-be?...” _

“I’m back!” Danny interrupted. His skinny, funnel-chested figure was concealed under a shirt now-- a simple white button-down. Ember could still see the ice-cold glow beneath it, though. On his back was what looked like a guitar case, but much smaller.  _ What did he call it? A keytar? _

“You look better,” said Ember.

“I feel better, too,” said Danny. “I think I might be able to…”

“Hm?” Ember leaned in.

Danny closed his eyes, concentrating. His chest glowed, and a ghostly halo surrounded him. But before anything more could happen, the halo sputtered out. He frowned. “Guess not.”

“Show me later,” said Ember. “We have a show to get to!”

Putting away her guitar, Ember grabbed Danny’s wrists and set off for Elmerton, counting every passing second until everybody heard her song.

Now that Danny had gotten used to flying out in the air like this, it was much more comfortable, almost comforting. He swayed in Ember’s grasp, back and forth, back and forth…

He breathed out, and his eyes slid shut.

_ The Fenton Hazmat fit Danny perfectly, as per Jack’s annual re-measuring of him and Jazz to adjust the suit as needed. He flexed his hands (the gloves were just the right texture to be thick and not unwieldy), tapped his feet experimentally (the boots had incredible arch support and were perfect for running, crouching down and everything in between), then turned to face the portal. _

_ The Fenton Portal, Jack Fenton’s second mistake. The Fenton Portal, the source of his and Maddie’s shame. The Fenton Portal, which their black-sheep son was about to fix, proving himself to them. _

_ And Danny knew just how to fix it. _

_ In a mistake, Jack had planned two ‘on’ switches, and both had been built in. Only one was on right now. _

_ Danny took a deep breath and walked into the portal, biting his lip in anticipation, drawing blood when he bit down too hard. The second button was right there now-- he could see its faint glow. He pressed it, and-- _

_ And… _

_ No. No. Something wasn’t right. _

_ He was nowhere. He was everywhere. He wasn’t himself. _

_ He looked down, wherever “down” was. He saw his body, laying there, still. That wasn’t right. That was a mistake. He had to fix that too. _

_ He picked up his body, using hands he didn’t have, heaving with lungs that weren’t there. It wasn’t enough. His body fell down, fell outside. It wasn’t him. _

_ Nothing was right. _

_ No. It had to be. It had to be right. He had to be right. He had to be Danny. _

_ He had to be himself. He couldn’t stay like this, couldn’t  _ die _ like this. He had to fix this. _

_ Footsteps, from outside. Crying. He had made them cry. No. He couldn’t let them cry. He had to prove to them that he was alright. He had to show them he was alright. _

_ On the floor-- a drop of blood. Danny’s blood. He lifted it. He could use this. He could use this to show them he was okay. He could fix things. He had fixed the portal, and he could fix himself. _

_ It would just take a while. _

Danny’s eyes flew open. His chest rose and fell, but not because he wanted it to. He looked around. He was in the lab, he noticed. Next to him was an IV bag filled with a glowing green fluid.  _ Ectoplasm. _

He glanced at his arm. In it was a drip running from the bag into his arm.

_ Something is here. _

His arm felt strange. Nerves pricked where they shouldn’t have, muscles tensed when he tried to flex other muscles. His skin didn’t feel like  _ his _ skin.

_ Something that is  _ not you _ is here. _

He noticed that same feeling in his right ear. It felt tender, twitching with every other motion he made. It felt inhuman.  _ But then again, _ he reminded himself,  _ you’re not human anymore. _

_ Something  _ inhuman _ is here. _

His jaw felt strange, as if it had been shifted around, had more teeth shoved into it. He poked his tongue around, then pulled back as he felt two separate parts of his tongue sting as they were pierced. Two parts that, in his own mouth, would not be there.

_ Something is in your body. _

Tentatively, he stuck his tongue out. He froze.

At the very tip, his tongue was forked.

_ Something is in your body that should not be there. _

Danny’s hand twitched. Danny hadn’t moved his hand.

_ Something is wrong with you. Something wrong is inside you. _

The thoughts whirling inside Danny’s head didn’t belong to him. They were the thoughts of something else entirely.

_ You have to get rid of it. It will get rid of you if you don’t. _

Danny tensed.  _ No, please-- _

_ Get it out! _

Danny shot awake, really awake this time. He felt frozen, then realized-- it was because he was. He brushed away the layer of ice on his suit, feeling his head to make certain it was his own. It was-- there was no tenderness in his arm, no point to the tips of his ears, no fangs, and only one tip to his tongue.

_ “I’m finally out in the clear, now I’m free-- I’ve got dreams I’m living for. I’m moving on where they’ll never find me. Rollin’ on to anywhere.” _

Danny turned to see Ember, playing again. She leaned against the wall of the amphitheater they were outside, playing another oldies song. Danny’s nose wrinkled. He might like  _ Stairway _ , but that was one song. This one was a whole different genre of  _ old _ .

Ember saw him and stopped. “Hey, ghostie,” she said. “Have a nice nap?”

“I’ll admit, it was pretty bad,” replied Danny. He realized-- “Wait, ghostie?”

“Yep!” Ember confirmed. “Your core’s all healed. Didn’t realize you were really a ghost ‘till you turned into one mid-flight!”

Danny looked around. Sure enough, the cloudy gray sky was now tinged with green, the sign denoting  _ Elmerton Stadium _ a deep violet, and Ember…

Ember was like a walking lightbulb. If her blues and purples were bright before, they were vibrant now. Even her black tank top seemed to emit light. The air around her fizzled and popped like a fresh Sprite from the Nasty Burger.  _ Why do all my thoughts circle back around to fast food? _

Ember continued. “Anyway, I opened up a slot for us at the performance tonight-- we’ll be last. How’s that for a grand finale?”

“Uh, great,” Danny said uncertainly. “What are we playing?”

“Got any songs?” Ember asked.

“None that would fit your style.”

“Hm.” Ember squinted down at him. Danny looked back at her, trying not to back away as she stepped closer. “I don’t even know your style, kid. Got a look?”

Danny stared at her. “A look?”

“Yeah!” Ember spread her arms, giving Danny a good view of her. “I’ve got a look, don’t I?”

“Oh!” Danny realized. “Like, what you look like?” He frowned. “No, I don’t really have that. I had an idea of what I wanted, but I never got around to actually putting it together.”

“What was it like?”

“It was preppy,” said Danny, “but with a lot more jewelry. It was kinda girlish, but--”

Ember snapped her fingers. “Danny,” she said. “Turn back into being alive or whatever.”

“Uh, sure,” said Danny, willing his heartbeat to encompass his body. He stumbled as gravity ran its course, but recovered quickly. “Why?”

Without warning, Ember grabbed Danny’s button-down and phased it off of him and into her hands. When he protested, she explained, “I think I got your idea. Go ghost again.”

Danny complied, watching as Ember unbuttoned the shirt and threw it at Danny. “Put that on,” she told him. Danny did, leaving it unbuttoned, then watched Ember reach into a hidden pocket in her guitar strap and pull out a turquoise tie.

“Where did you get that?” Danny asked. “It’s not exactly your, uh, look.”

“Got it for my date,” Ember answered. “You deserve it more than he did.”

“He was bad?” Danny assumed.

“Wouldn’t know,” said Ember. “He stood me up!”

Danny winced. “Ouch.” Carefully, he put on the tie, tying it loosely.

“Alright, kid. It’s your look, not mine.” A makeup case materialized in Ember’s gloved hand. “But… Wanna glam it up a bit?”

Danny’s grin answered for him. With Ember’s help, he tried on eyeliner and bright green eyeshadow. He had gone for red at first, but Ember had stopped him. “Not your color, dipstick,” she had said.

“You know makeup better than I do,” Danny had accepted.

Finally, Ember gave him the okay and held up a compact mirror. Danny jumped in surprise.

Phantom stood in the mirror, but he looked infinitely more  _ ghostly _ . His eyes were defined, his thin lips were painted over, and there were lines of green, white and black running up his cheeks, making him look gaunt. 

He turned to Ember in question. “Couldn’t help myself,” she grinned. “Ya like it?”

Danny looked back at Phantom’s reflection and couldn’t help a grin of his own splitting his face. “It’s my look!”

“Great!” Ember stood, inviting Danny to stand too. “Not a second to lose!”

Turns out, there were quite a few seconds to lose. Hours, even. Ember paced around the room she had phased herself and Danny into, counting the minutes, seconds, slow, even breaths Danny took.

They had worked out what songs they were going to play-- Danny had agreed to learn Ember’s first song,  _ Remember _ . She had asked him for songs of his own, but he had refused. 

“My songs don’t fit my ‘look’ anymore,” he had explained. “A lot changes when you die, I guess.” He was right, of course, but she was still disappointed.

Now Danny opened his keytar case, pulling it out. Ember stopped pacing and turned to look at it.

The keytar itself was simple, but Ember marvelled at it. She had never seen anything like it before-- a keyboard you could hold like a guitar? “That’s so cool,” she said.

Danny shrugged at that. “It’s nothing special. I bet there weren’t any musicians that used this when you were alive. Not many today, either.” He played out a few chords, a tune Ember didn’t know but enjoyed nonetheless.

“You’re gonna do great,” said Ember. “Whatever you do with that.”

“Really?”

“Sure!” Ember said. “It’ll be amazing! Ember McLain and… uh…” She frowned again. “What’s your last name?”

“Fenton,” Danny said. “But everybody knows that name. It’s the name of the kid that died in the accident a couple months back. I can’t go up there with that name. It’s insensitive, if not downright incriminating.”

“Hm.” Ember thought for a second. The kid was right, of course-- he had apparently hardly changed after the accident, from what he had told Ember. But he couldn’t go up there with no name. “Got a stage name?” she asked.

“I called myself Phantom the other night,” Danny confirmed. “I can do that now.”

“Phantom?” said Ember. She frowned. “Doesn’t have all that much of a ring to it. Plus, it’s not all that creative either.”

“Rude, but fair.”

“But we can use it. That’s your new last name now, got it? Danny Phantom.”

Danny blanched in surprise. “What?”

“Does it work?”

“Yeah…” Danny nodded, a smile crossing his face. “Yeah. That works. It even sounds like my old name.”

“Am I a songwriter, or am I a songwriter?”

The door opened. “‘Ember McLain and that Danny kid?’” said an official. “You’re on deck. Get ready.”

Danny jumped up. “Hey, can you change it to Danny Phantom?”

The official nodded, leaving. Ember picked up her guitar, and on Danny’s nod, headed out the door.

For a few minutes they stood backstage, enjoying the band before them. Danny had called them “Dumpty Humpty”, explaining that they were a new, up-and-coming band. Eventually, they took their leave, leaving Danny and Ember in the open.

“Ready?” asked Ember.

Danny nodded. “Ready.”

They stepped onstage. Danny waited for Ember’s cue.

Ember glanced at him and tapped her fretboard, and Danny started on an arpeggio that created a rhythm to the song Ember had never thought of before. She froze in amazement, just for a second, then, a huge grin on her face, broke into the melody.

The kid was great on that thing. He had the skill of a pianist with the natural rhythm of a stage performer. If she was a songwriter, he was a song _ maker _ . He complemented her in ways she didn’t even know were possible, and made it twice as good as she had written it. Danny had  _ skill. _

Finally, the song came to a close. Ember strummed out the last powerchord, then dropped her arms to a wild cheer from the audience. Next to her, Danny had a wide smile on his face. Ember had seen him smile before, but she had never seen him this  _ happy _ . Because of that, she couldn’t help but return the grin.

It faded quickly, though, as something caught her eye. Up in the sky, something was glowing. And it was approaching  _ fast _ .

Danny’s breath clouded. He looked behind himself and stopped, terror freezing his face. He knew what this was, Ember thought, and from his expression, it was no good.

As it drew closer, she made out details-- red eyes, a violet cape, a fanged mouth pulled into a tight grimace. The air seemed to darken, thicken with its presence.

Instinctively, she stepped in front of Danny. He’d had his career taken from him once, and he was only a kid. Even if this thing eradicated her, it was better her than him.

She changed the setting on her guitar, pouring more of her ghostly energy into it. Finding the fret she wanted, she struck out a powerchord.

It flew through the air, hitting the ghost dead-on. It didn’t even flinch, flying right through it.

Ember turned behind her, eyes landing on Danny. “Run, kid!” she shouted. “Don’t worry about me. Just go!”

The kid stared at her, the fear evident in his glowing eyes, then nodded and ran. Immediately the ghost changed directions, making a beeline for Danny. Ember realized her mistake. In a last-ditch effort, she hurled herself at the ghost, intercepting him before he could make it.

For a second, Ember had the upper hand. The ghost stumbled against her tackle. Then a force as hard as a brick wall hit her. If Ember had had a ribcage, it would have shattered. As it was, she flew across the stadium, landing hard outside it. Her core sputtered. She couldn’t take on that ghost again. She had to rest.

She hissed in pain, facing the sky. “Sorry I couldn’t do more,” she murmured. Her eyes focused on the stars above her. “If anybody’s watching up there, please make sure that kid’s alright. He’s still got his whole life ahead of him.”

Her vision faded, such that she just barely missed the auburn lady standing above her, leveling a gun at Ember’s head. “And if it’s not asking too much, I want another go too. 

“I want everyone to remember my name.”

Vlad slipped into the house, keeping himself and Daniel invisible. The boy had struggled against him, but just a drop of Vlad’s power was enough to force the boy out of his gaudily dressed ghost form and into a limp human slumped in Vlad’s arms.

He heard voices upstairs, but they were just that-- upstairs. It sounded like Maddie’s daughter Jasmine and a boy.  _ Perhaps it was her boyfriend? _

He paid no mind to them, phasing into the lab-- empty besides Daniel’s cadaver. Vlad set Daniel down on the floor and moved over to his corpse.

He pulled the saline drip out of the body and lifted it up, stepping towards the Fenton Portal. Once he disposed of the body and put the real Daniel in its place, everything would be fine. Everything would proceed as it should.

Something seized around his wrist. Vlad looked down, annoyed, but stopped when he saw just what was around it.

In his arms, Daniel’s body looked right back at him, betrayal painted on its face. Its hand clutched Vlad’s wrist, nails grown out so that they nearly cut him. It was awake.

Vlad glanced back at Daniel’s ghost to make sure they were two separate things. Sure enough, Daniel laid there just the way Vlad had put him down.

Another hand grabbed his neck. The body’s expression was now one of unmistakable rage. Vlad felt energy concentrate in his hands, then dissipate just as quickly. The glove on his right hand began to dissolve, leaving nails jabbed into raw skin. Red flashed in its slitted eyes.

Vlad realized all too quickly what it was doing. He ripped the body off of himself, flinging it through the Fenton Portal and deep into the Ghost Zone. There. It was gone.

Now that that was done and over with, Vlad picked up Daniel and placed him on the cot the body had been on. Daniel shivered but did not wake.

Vlad nodded contently. Now that everything had been taken care of, everything would fall into place. Everything would be fine now. Danny could get back to his life now. Maddie would love him now, like she was always supposed to.

Nothing could go wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dont yinz worry i'm not gonna kill ember. also speaking of ember she's my new excuse to put old songs into this story. but what yinz guys should worry about is that body. that's not the last you're gonna see of it!   
> also hey special shout out to ao3 user ivystar. i love you


	4. one foot on the cliff's edge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey cuarentena... my guys i STRUGGLED with this chapter. half of this i feel like is "who knows? makes the plot better" and the other half is just "who knows?"

Word got out quickly about the events in Elmerton Stadium the night before. According to most, if not all accounts, the last two performers had been attacked by a ghost. And evidently enough, the girl onstage  _ was _ a ghost. She had fought back using a display of her own power-- dangerous, but hopeless compared to her opponent.

The boy next to her was a different matter altogether, having been quickly captured after a short escape attempt and a futile struggle. After that, he had seemingly disappeared altogether, the same as his attacker. Whether he was a ghost or not, whether he knew what the girl was or not, why he had been captured, all a mystery.

But nobody was asking questions just yet. Sure, they thought, the attack had been out of the ordinary, but the performance beforehand was stunning in its own right. It was a kind of music they had never heard before, a blend of classic rock and classical, that took away their breath and gave it back rich with song. For some, it reminded them of days long past; others it gave visions and hope for the future. The music was intoxicating, and nobody could get enough.

So these people did not ask  _ why _ Ember was attacked, Danny Phantom captured. They simply asked  _ who  _ they were and  _ where _ they would be next.

But, of course, word was bound to get out that  _ yes, _ there were ghosts in Elmerton. They were close by, and nobody knew what to think just yet. Yes, a ghost had attacked, but a ghost had also defended. Yes, a ghost had demonstrated callous aggression and disregard for others’ safety, but a ghost had also selflessly thrown herself into the line of fire to save her companion.

The Fentons, everyone knew (or assumed) on some level, believed ghosts to be simple-minded and goal-oriented-- complete the task they had remained for, and do not care for anything else. Other people, other ghosts, they claimed, were regarded as obstacles at best. And a ghost showed sympathy or compassion, it was no doubt for an ulterior motive.

The Fentons, everyone knew, were experts on ghosts. But they were not ghosts themselves-- a person can believe anything they want about another’s consciousness without being able to prove a thing. And the spectacle that was the night before seemed to disprove everything they claimed.

But the Fentons were humans, just like everyone, and ghosts were something else entirely. There was no reason to trust the ghosts. But as humans do, the civilians of Elmerton and neighboring Amity decided to show compassion of their own-- they would give ghosts a chance to prove the kind of being they were. Simple-minded or complex, vicious or protective, they would risk everything to learn.

And learn they did.

When Jack came home from the grocery store and made his way down the hall to his room, he  _ almost  _ opened Jazz's door to see the boy in the room with her. He  _ almost _ found out his name, learned what he looked like, knew where he lived. But he didn't.

The only thing he learned was everything else.

Jack listened through the door to the boy's quick talking, trying to ensure he wasn’t a creep, didn't want to use Jazz like some boys could and did with their girlfriends.

"I saw Danny leave the lab in the arms of another ghost. I don't know where, or why, but they were fast. It was like he--  _ they _ \--were in a hurry,” said the boy.

"You're sure it was him?" asked Jazz. "You said he was invisible."

Jack frowned. Why were they talking about Danny? Why would he be able to turn invisible? Why were they talking about him like he was still  _ alive _ ?

"He was, but it wasn't normal. Whatever that would mean. I could still see him-- It was like looking through glass."

It dawned on him. Life after death. They weren't talking about Danny, they were talking about a ghost that looked like him. Ghosts, after all, rarely looked like their living selves. This was clearly just a mimic of Danny, dead but with a drive for recognition.

The boy's next words seemed to twist such a hypothesis, though. "I could see his heart beating. It looked like he was terrified." Why would a ghost have a beating heart?  _ How _ , for that matter?

"I'm guessing he was," said Jazz. "These last few days have been rough on him."

"Mm," the boy agreed.

Jack didn't understand. What had happened in the past few days, having to do with a ghost that was a near-perfect mimic of Danny? He thought back: Just two days ago, Maddie claimed to have caught a ghost. The mimic, no doubt. Those same two days ago, Jazz had been acting strange: quieter than ever, jumpy, always seeming to be on the lookout for something. 

Obviously, something had happened involving the mimic ghost that had scared Jazz.

_ Or, she had a secret to keep. _

The day before, Maddie had invited Vlad over without telling Jack, and they had worked in the lab together all morning. On what, Maddie hadn't told him. When the time was right, she had promised, she would tell him.

"I'm just worried. That's my little brother out there, and anything could be happening to him. He could get hurt. He could get killed." A pause. " _ Mom  _ could kill him."

So the mimic had Jazz fooled, too. And she was really worrying about it. Jack supposed he should look into this ghost and see just how convincing it was. If anything, he could make Maddie's job a bit easier. 

Jack turned and left for the lab. In it was a nearly-finished device: the Fenton Finder detected and tracked down discrete ecto-signatures. With it, he could find the mimic, and using another Fenton Thermos, he could catch it.

Lost in thought, Jack stumbled on the last step, but quickly righted himself only to find a lab table with Danny's corpse resting on it. Immediately he paled. Was this what Maddie had been doing with Vlad? What were they doing to the body?

He spotted an IV bag half-full of softly glowing green ectoplasm. It ran down a drip into the body's arm, making the veins closest to it glow. Again he asked himself what they were doing, then it came to him-- in ecto-engineering, ectoplasm exponentially increased the mechanical efficiency of any device it was powered by.

Jack supposed now that a similar concept applied here. He was no ecto-biologist, but considering the things Maddie had told him, he would have to assume ectoplasm boosted cellular growth, even going as far as to restart and regrow cells.

It hit him. They were bringing Danny back to life.

_ Wait _ .

Looking at the portal now, Jack couldn't help but remember seeing Danny's prone body against the lab floor. The same one that was lying on the lab table now.

_ Was it? _

Jack remembered the circumstances: Danny had been inside the portal's circuit when it closed, exposing himself to a lethal voltage of electricity, not to mention the ectoplasmic radiation that would have killed him twice over.

Now Jack remembered something he and Vlad had worked on in college. Vlad had been an ecto-historian, studying documentation of ghosts throughout history. He had hypothesized that the amount of latent ectoplasm present during the death of a sentient creature determined the speed at which a ghost formed, and the power of said ghost.

_ If the same rules apply… _

The portal would have been flooded with ectoplasm once it opened, and Danny had been inside said portal, surrounded by it as he died. If he hadn't become a ghost within seconds, Jack would eat his hazmat. The only question was, what ghost was he?

_ Could it be? _

There was always the chance that Danny had become a ghost that Jack would never recognize as Danny. There was always the chance that Jack would never speak to Danny's ghost, or that Danny's ghost was monstrous, or that Danny's ghost was--

_ The mimic. _

Jack tensed. Of course. That was how the ghost had convinced Jazz it was Danny so easily. That was why she and the boy had both called it Danny, and not a ghost. But it didn't explain everything.

If Danny was the mimic, why were they okay with him  _ being _ the mimic? What made them so sure he wasn't harmless? Why did his heart still beat? How could they know he was a ghost, and still care about him like that?

Jack scanned the room again with every new question he had. His eye caught something on the floor, half-inside the portal. It was small, and dark, and brown. Jack stepped closer, stopping once he realized what it was.

It was a dried bloodstain, there for at least a month and likely longer. It probably belonged to Danny, one more memento before the accident.

_ Before the accident? _

No. No, no, no. Jack wasn't thinking clearly. He shook his head, then shook it again when the thought didn't go away. He knew ectoplasm could facilitate cellular growth and division. He knew Danny had died in a veritable sea of ectoplasm. He knew that Danny's blood, Danny's cells were on the floor inside the portal.

But together, it just didn't make sense. It could have been nothing. Nothing could have happened, and the mimic could be a ghost that didn't know Danny Fenton and only cared about being him.

_ Or-- _

He shuddered. He didn't like this conclusion, liked its implications less.  _ Or _ , Danny could have become a ghost immediately after the accident, and using still-living cells in his blood, recreated his body. The same, but different, and yet, entirely unmistakable. Perhaps there was no mimic, Jack thought. Perhaps Danny was not the mimic, Danny was himself. Perhaps Danny was still alive, with a still-beating heart, and Maddie wanted him dead. Perhaps the Fentons were wrong about every decision they had made about ghosts.

Jack didn't like that  _ perhaps.  _ He turned away from the portal, trying to remember where he had set the Fenton Finder prototype.

But a voice behind him made him freeze.

“Jack? What are you doing down here?”

Jack turned around to see Vlad, who was clearly just as surprised to see him.

If Jack hadn’t been so lost in thought, he would have been happier to see his old college friend. “Hey, Vladdie. Just getting this old thing,” he explained. “I might need it, in case something comes up. Ghosts have started appearing around, you know.”

Vlad shifted, a smile gracing his face. “I see. Well, I may have neglected to tell you before, but this work  _ is  _ rather secretive, even for the likes of you. What goes on here is strictly confidential between Maddie and myself.”

“And… Danny?” asked Jack, gesturing towards the corpse.

Vlad didn’t answer. “If you please, go upstairs and don’t speak of this until we’re finished. I trust you know the ethics of this kind of experiment?”

Jack nodded.

“And you understand what would happen if word got out that such a thing was happening here?”

Another nod.

“Excellent. You’re a good friend, Jack,” Vlad said. “Now scoot.”

As Jack headed out of the lab, he couldn’t help but note how much Vlad had changed since the accident in college. Beforehand, Vlad had been bright-eyed and curious, just as eager to discover as Jack had been. Now, it seemed like he knew everything there was to know-- well-seasoned, but callous. Jack had felt like a child talking to him.

Something was going on with Vlad, it seemed, and Jack didn’t like it.

When Danny remembered what had happened, he shot up with his heart pounding. He had lost to Vlad again-- what was happening now? His eyes darted around the room. He noticed that he was in the lab again. Was he having another dream? Or was it all real? What was Vlad going to do to him? Why had he come after him in the first place? What…

“Calm down, Daniel,” said a voice that came from nowhere. Vlad materialized over the cot Danny was on, his white hair no more disheveled than when he had last seen Vlad like this. “Everything will be fine, for you  _ and _ for me.”

Danny tensed, gripping the edges of his cot. He couldn’t fight Vlad-- he’d had that proven time and time again. But what else could he do?

“What’s happening?” He cursed his voice for quavering. “What are you doing to me?”

“Nothing you don’t do yourself,” Vlad answered. “Have you already forgotten the offer I made you?”

_ The offer… _

“I know you remember what Maddie thought. She shot at you in the middle of it,” Vlad continued. “But she did it for a reason.” He turned to look at Danny. “You ought to know what it was.”

“She knew I wasn’t the body,” Danny voiced cautiously, “because the body was right here.”

“And now?”

“And now I’m in its place,” Danny finished. “You replaced it.”

“Precisely,” said Vlad. “The body was hopeless. It could never be you. So, we’ll go with this-- the experiment was a success. Danny Fenton was successfully revived, and now he will go on to live a happy life with his mother and her st--”

“What did you do with it?”

“...”

“Vlad, what did you do with the body?”

“I took care of it.” Vlad seemed eager to drop the subject. “Anyway, I suggest it best that you show no animosity towards anything I might do in the near future, just to avoid suspicion. And I think it needs no emphasis, but you should be careful around ghosts. If she finds out about you, not even I can help you.”

Danny bristled. Terrifying as he was, Vlad was a prick. The nerve of asking for his allegiance like that! One day, he promised himself, he  _ would _ kick his bloodsucking ass.

Nevertheless, he nodded. “Alright.”

“I’ll be back shortly, with Maddie. In the meantime, I suggest you start working on an alibi or two. After all, I don’t think you’d experience  _ nothing _ after death in a world where ghosts are real.” With that, Vlad vanished the same way he had appeared.

Danny scoffed and fell back onto the cot. His contempt melted away when the situation finally sank in, though. According to Vlad, he had been “brought back to life”. Maddie wouldn’t try to hurt him anymore. He wouldn’t be a stranger anymore. That part of his life was over.

_ But you’re still a ghost, aren’t you? _

Danny shook the thought. No. Not anymore. He would never show Phantom to the world again. That part of him didn’t have to exist, not if he didn’t let it.

And it wouldn’t, he thought, as Maddie ran downstairs to see him, starstruck, and swept him into a hug.

Never again, he thought, as he tensed in her arms, fearful, remembering the gunshot that still made his core ache with pain long gone but not forgotten.

Nobody will know, he thought, as Vlad appeared in the stairway, collected, and Danny locked eyes with him and showed him all the  _ pain  _ he could muster into his own two eyes.

And he knew, somehow, that the wheels of fate would not forever turn in his direction. He knew that someday, the truth would come out. But he did not dwell on the  _ what then? _ that such a knowledge implied. No, for now, he would stay hidden away.

_ Nobody else will know. _

“Wait a second.” Wes broke the silence that had fallen in between them for the past few minutes, the incessant clicking of Jazz’s broken mouse coming to a pause. “This article went up last night.”

Jazz leaned over. She couldn’t see the text on the computer screen, but Wes’s expression told her he was onto something. “What is it?”

“I don’t go on paranormal websites often,” Wes started. Jazz somehow knew he was lying. “But, this is saying something about a ghost fight in Elmerton last night. There were two ghosts involved, and… Danny.”

“Danny?” Jazz stepped closer to the computer. There was a single picture of the occurrence, shaky and clearly taken by an amateur. Jazz could make out two ghosts-- one was floating about seven feet off the ground, and the other was poised to throw itself at the former. The third figure-- Danny --was running away from both ghosts, head turned away from the camera. 

“I’ve seen that other ghost too, the one with flaming hair,” Wes said. “At least we know he was safe until this.”

“But what about after?” Jazz said, ice gripping her heart. “What if he’s--”

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. “Jazz, sweetheart?” said Maddie. “Are you there? I have great news!”

Jazz turned to Wes, who was already searching for an escape route. “Under the bed,” she whispered. He nodded and made way for it.

Jazz, seeing as he was safely hidden, opened the door. “What is it?” she asked her mother.

Maddie gripped Jazz, excitement electrifying her demeanor. “It’s Danny,” she said. “He’s alive!”

“What?” Remembering Wes’s talk of Danny’s corpse in the lab, Jazz was skeptical, and frankly, scared of what that meant.

“Vlad brought him back to life!” Maddie took Jazz’s hand and turned towards the lab. “Come on!”

Heading down the stairs, Jazz remembered Wes mentioning Vlad-- he was a billionaire, and a suspicious one at that. She didn’t know how or why he was here, or what he had to do with Danny.

But all her thoughts stopped when she saw Danny. He stood there in the lab, quiet calculation in his eyes, trying to keep his expression unreadable. But his body language gave it all away.

His arms were crossed tightly over himself, and he never broke eye contact with Maddie. His breathing wasn’t fast, but it was shaky-- he was forcibly slowing it down, it seemed. When he noticed Jazz, though, his expression seemed to brighten. His arms loosened, his back straightened, the corners of his mouth turned up. That much was good.

Jazz raised a hand. “Hey, Danny.”

“Hi, Jazz.” His eyes flicked back to Maddie. “It’s, uh, good to see you.”

Jazz almost frowned. She knew Maddie had trapped him in the Thermos, but was that the thing that had made him so focused on her?

“It’s cold down here. Do you want to go upstairs?” she offered. When Danny nodded, she looked around at the other two people in the room. On her right, Maddie nodded her assent. On her left was a tall, broadly built man-- Vlad Masters, she presumed. He smiled at her, and she returned the gesture, noticing that the smile never reached his eyes.

She beckoned Danny. “Come on,” she said. “And welcome back.”

Once they were in his room, he sat down on the edge of her bed, fidgeting with his hands. He didn’t look at Jazz once.

“What happened?” Jazz asked, hoping to break the silence.

Danny didn’t answer right away. He took a deep breath, and was silent for a long time. “...It was dark,” he said.

“Dark?” Jazz pressed. 

“When I died,” Danny said. “I couldn’t see anything. I couldn’t move. The only thing I could hear was… myself.”

“What?” Jazz’s brow furrowed. “That’s not what I…”

“The body.” Danny jumped at Wes’s voice below him. Wes crawled out, showing his face to Danny and Jazz. “Maddie really did bring you back.”

Danny’s eyes widened seeing Wes, more than they should have. He bit back the expression and nodded. “Uh-huh. Are you Jazz’s boyfriend?”

Wes reddened. “No! I wouldn’t date…” He stopped. “No offense.”

Jazz nodded back. “Wes is just a friend,” she told Danny. “Like Sam.”

“Okay.” Danny’s gaze dropped back into his lap, fixed on his wringing hands. 

Jazz frowned. “Is there something you want to talk about?”

“Yeah,” Danny said. He hesitated before continuing “If… If you had a part of you that you didn’t like, and you wanted to hide it, would that be okay?”

“If it’s really bothering you, you should talk about it with somebody,” said Jazz. “Someone you trust, like one of your friends, or me, or Dad.”

“Well, I--”

“Are you gay?” Wes interrupted, sweeping silence over the room. As he realized what he had said, he crawled out from under the bed, blood rushing to his cheeks again. “I- I mean, if you want to hide it because you’re afraid people won’t like it, that’s okay. But, I, uh… came out to my classmates earlier this year, and I thought they would hate me for it, but they were okay with it. Some of them even thought I was really cool for it.”

“You did that?” said Danny. “You were really brave.”

“People are more accepting than you might think,” Wes said, sitting level with Danny. “You don’t have to hide it, if you don’t want to.”

“No pressure, though,” said Jazz, ruffling Danny’s hair. “Of course it’s okay to have secrets.”

Danny nodded. “Thanks, both of you.” He looked at Jazz’s door, aiming to stand, then paused. “Uh, where will I be sleeping?”

Jazz remembered suddenly that Danny’s room was empty, save for the calendar. “Oh, um…”

“It’s okay,” Danny said. “I can sleep on the couch. Thanks, guys.” With that, he left the room.

Aside, Wes thrust open the window. “I can’t stay,” he said. “I got into an argument with your mom over the ethics of necromancy before I ran into you. She won’t be happy if I stick around.”   
“Okay,” Jazz said. “See you.”

“Definitely,” Wes said before hopping out onto the ground. “Good thing this room is on the first floor. Might have broken an ankle or something if I hadn’t.”

Jazz smiled and waved, then shut the window behind him. Now alone in her room, she sat down on the desk chair. Shaking the mouse, she unlocked her computer and looked at the article Wes had opened. She stared at the little black and white figure, out of focus and nearly out of frame, running further that way.

“What happened to you?” she said aloud.

Jack looked up from the Fenton Finder’s circuit board when Danny walked into the living room. His son seemed almost nonchalant, as if he hadn’t been dead for the past month. The behavior did nothing to keep Jack from greeting him delightedly.

“ _ Danny! _ ” Jack cried, rushing over to clap him on the shoulder. “Good to see you!”

Danny smiled and placed his hand over Jack’s. “Hi, Dad. Good to see you, too.”

Jack threw the board and gestured for Danny to sit down. “I missed you, son. Come on, let’s talk. We’ll have one of those father-son bonding moments!”

Jack wasn’t lying when he said he missed Danny. The house had become awfully quiet without his constant humming and drumming fingers on the table-- without him, even Jack had mellowed out a little. It had become strange not to hear silence in the Fenton household

Danny’s return was more than welcome-- it had brought life back to the home, literally and figuratively. As Danny sat down next to Jack, he put his arm around Danny’s shoulders and gave him a squeeze.

“How are you feeling, kiddo? It was no small feat bringing you back from the dead.”

Danny cringed at that comment, but shook himself off. “I’m, uh… okay. I don’t feel bad or wrong or anything-- not that I would, I don’t think.”

“You don’t know what to expect in this field,” Jack said. “It’s a miracle you were brought back the right way-- you could have been a monster.” Just to say the words, Jack continued. “If we’d done it wrong, you could have been a  _ ghost _ .”

Danny stiffened. Jack’s eyes flicked down to him, and saw him staring at the coffee table, eyes wide and hands shaking. “Danny?” he said uncertainly.

Danny met Jack’s eyes, a kind of fear visible in them that Jack had never seen before. “I, um, I want to see what it’s like outside,” he said. Starting for the door, he turned with a quick “I’ll be back!” and left.

Jack frowned. That was unlike Danny-- he didn’t normally get nervous out of nowhere. And when had he become so  _ scared _ of ghosts? He supposed he could ask Vlad what he supposed could have changed Danny.

As he walked into the lab, something caught his attention. It was some sort of noise, coming from below him. He glanced around, wondering what the sound could be. It wasn’t Vlad-- he was nowhere in sight. His gaze fell on the trapdoor in the back corner that led to the dungeon below. Carefully, he opened it and made his way downstairs.

In the dungeon was Maddie, who hadn’t noticed him, and a ghost, who had. She kept it to herself, though, and instead decided to start talking to Maddie.

“Hey, doc?” she said, trying to get Maddie’s attention.

Maddie responded almost automatically. “Don’t try.”

The ghost’s brow furrowed. “Try what?” she asked. It was clear she was a teenager, and an annoyed one at that. “I’m bound to a chair, and you took my guitar. Way I am now, I couldn’t hurt a dust bunny.”

“You’re trying to manipulate me,” Maddie answered.

“Hey, hey,” the ghost protested. “What makes you think that right off the bat? I didn’t do anything suspicious, did I?”

“That’s just how ghosts are,” Maddie explained. Jack noticed, for the first time, that she had come up with the theory before she had talked to a ghost-- this being the first. “Manipulative. No ghost has emotions or drive outside self-interest.”

“That’s ridiculous, doc,” the ghost said. “I could say living folk are inherently callous and be just as wrong.” She shifted, sitting up a little more. “For a scientist, you don’t seem all too scientific.”

Jack suddenly wondered  _ where _ Maddie had come up with such a theory. Was it before she had begun talk of dissection, or after?

“I have standards for how I do my work. I can’t be open with the ghosts I work on, or they’ll try to take advantage of my emotions. They’ll tip the balance in their favor.”

“Mhm,” the ghost said. “And what traumatic experience with ghosts makes you think that?”

“I’m  _ preventing _ a traumatic experience by doing this,” Maddie defended, brushing the ecto-pistol at her hip. “For me and my family.”

“I don’t think so,” said the ghost. Her hair sparked a little, casting her face in a blue light. “Look, lady, hear me out. I’m bound to a chair, no weapons, currently being told to shut my trap. Meanwhile, you’re here, hazmat on, armed to the teeth and  _ telling _ me to shut it. What’s so dangerous to you about  _ listening _ to me?”

She made a fair case, Jack thought. Jazz would get along with her splendidly.

Maddie apparently agreed-- she crouched down to eye level with the ghost. “Alright. What do you have to say?”

“I have to say that whatever you think of ghosts is wrong,” the girl started. “Here, what do you think of me? Spill it.”

Maddie didn’t hesitate responding. “You’re a powerful threat to civilization, and at full potential, you have the capacity to put the entire world under your control.”

“I can say something similar about you.” The girl crossed her legs. “Your inventions have the potential to kill, and in the wrong hands, they probably will. What makes you so sure you’re the right hands?”

Both Maddie and Jack froze at that comment. Jack knew the answer to that-- they weren’t. Their hands had killed Danny. Of course, Maddie had brought him back, but the damage had still been done. It was still their portal that had done it.

After what seemed like hours, Maddie answered. “Everybody makes mistakes. But… not everybody fixes them. My hands are the right hands because they  _ do _ .”

“And the likes of me don’t?” the girl asked. “You’ve never met me, and you just  _ know _ my hands are the wrong hands?”

“You’re a ghost,” Maddie said. “No ghost exists without an obsession. Yours is fame. You want everyone to remember your name. Leave that unchecked, and it grows to becoming a worldwide sensation, to  _ controlling _ the world.”

“Talk about presumptuous,” the girl shot back. “Sure, my obsession is fame-- and music, but you don’t care about that one --but you’re thinking way too big. Tell me the last time a ghost controlled the world.”

“Admittedly, it’s never happened,” Maddie said. “But there’s too much we don’t know about ghosts. If we don’t control them now, we might not be  _ able _ to control them later.”

“What  _ do _ you know about ghosts?” asked the girl. “What is a ghost, to you?”

That snapped Maddie back into scientist mode. “A ghost is a manifestation of post-human consciousness aided and guided by the presence of ectoplasm. They’re unnatural, and don’t belong here.”

“Rich,” the girl said. “Very rich, coming from you. Ghosts have been dead longer than you’ve been alive. And not only are you wrong, you’re hypocritical.” She lowered her voice. “I’ve been in your lab. I know what your little  _ mistake _ was.” Maddie froze. “Fixing it like that?  _ That’s  _ unnatural.”

“Danny is my son,” Maddie said. Jack didn’t miss the quaver in her voice. “I’ll love him no matter what, and I know he loves me too.” She stood up from her crouch. “Ghosts  _ can’t _ love. They don’t feel outside of their obsession. They’re like…  _ viruses. _ Disguising themselves as humans to take advantage of us.”

“Doc. You’re wrong.” The ghost’s hair began to flicker faster. “Ghosts  _ are _ humans. Most of us, anyway. We’ve got the occasional canine and fish. But the only difference is that we’ve already died. Why do you think we’re so evil? It’s not experience…”   
Jack realized the answer before she said it. “...Is it absolution?” the girl asked. “Are you afraid of what you’re doing to us?” Before Maddie could rebuke, she continued. “You wouldn’t do this to somebody who’s still alive. So you tell yourself that we aren’t like you, we  _ need _ to be hurt for the greater good. There’s no guilt when you’re doing the right thing, is there?”

Jack saw how tense Maddie was, and only then noticed his own tension. His jaw was tight, his shoulders clenched, his legs stiff. If he believed the ghost, then they had to throw away nearly every theory and law they had made about ghosts’ behaviors. They had to start treating ghosts like the people they were. And Jack… Jack could face that reality. But Maddie?

Maddie drew her ecto-gun and aimed it at the girl. “This conversation is over.”

“...Was I right?”

The gun went off, leaving that ever-so-familiar  _ blast _ echoing throughout the dungeon. The girl slouched, an eerie lack of noise coming out of her. The flames in her hair seemed to sputter and die out, leaving a nothing short piece of blue hair in the ponytail. She almost looked human then, if Jack ignored the dim turquoise glow that emanated from her.

Maddie turned, and jumped when she saw Jack. “Oh! I didn’t…”

“I didn’t want to distract you,” Jack explained. “I…”

“Oh, Jack,” Maddie said, “You don’t have to worry about that. But… You didn’t  _ believe _ anything that ghost said, did you?”

Jack didn’t know why he hesitated before answering. “As a matter of fact, Mads… I think I did. Like you said, there’s a lot we don’t know about ghosts. Where better to learn than from a ghost?”

“Jack, you know it could have been lying,” Maddie said. “Can’t believe everything you hear, especially if it’s coming from a ghost.”

Jack argued no further. “...If you say so.”

When Maddie went upstairs, he didn’t follow her. Instead he sat down against the wall and waited for the ghost girl to wake up.

Danny didn’t care how irrational he was being. He knew the truth now-- Jack hated ghosts just as much as Maddie. If his secret was revealed, both of them would try to kill him. He couldn’t trust them anymore. He needed Sam and Tucker. They trusted him. They wouldn’t try to kill him. They wouldn’t…

He hurried down the street. The Nasty Burger would be open now, no doubt. Where was his phone? He had to call them. He dug into his pocket, expecting to find nothing but lint…

And there it was. Perfectly intact, full battery, not even dusty. He flipped it open and speed-dialed Tucker.

As he crossed to walk on the shady side of the road, the line picked up. “Danny?”

Danny started. “Sam? Why do you have…”

“I’m at Tucker’s house. I heard about the concert. That was you, right? Are you okay? You’re not hurt or anything?”

“No. Besides, even if I was-- that’s beside the point.” Danny’s breath shook. “Listen, can you meet me at the Nasty Burger? I don’t--”

“Yeah. We’ll come right now.” The line went dead.

Danny sighed and put away the phone. The Nasty Burger was in sight now-- it was just across the street. There were no cars in sight, so he stepped off--

And nearly fell backwards as a motorcycle came speeding past. The horn went off, and Danny heard the driver yell at him to “watch it, kid!”

Danny stood for a moment, petrified, then shook himself off. There would always be people like that. Besides, he would probably never see that guy again. Besides, he was still alive, right? Or something.

He walked the rest of the way without a problem. He took his order, then his friends’, grateful the cashier was too distracted to recognize him, or perhaps didn’t care to notice, and sat down.

Sam and Tucker didn’t take long coming-- the two of them swept him into a tight hug. This one, though, Danny returned. They stayed that way, crushed into their group-hug, for a long while. Then they separated and sat down as if they were normal friends having a normal meet-up. Danny was grateful for that, too.

Their orders came, and just like that, they started talking.

They talked a lot, about seemingly normal things-- Danny asked Tucker if he’d finished DOOMED (and wondered what that smirk on Sam’s face was all about), Sam told Danny about a convention at the Skulk-and-Lurk that had just been announced, Tucker joked that Danny should write a song about it.

“Speaking of music,” Danny said, “don’t you think it’s gonna be a little weird that I want to keep performing? Since I’m, you know.”

“We had a ghost appear at the school yesterday,” Tucker said.

“Haunted Lancer and got my new menu repealed,” Sam cut in.

“It was terrible,” Tucker replied. “Anyway, with the stuff that’s been going on, a star coming back to life probably won’t be high on the ‘weird’ list.”

“For them, at least.” Danny sighed. “I feel like my life’s been turned upside down. I still have ghost powers. I’m still Phantom, but I don’t  _ want _ to be.”

Danny turned as the door swung open. Into the Nasty Burger walked a greasy-looking guy and a stylish-looking girl, presumably his girlfriend. She was just as greasy, but she wore it better. Neither seemed happy.

He turned back as Sam asked, “Do you think your parents could fix it?”

“No!” he said, a bit too loud. “No. They both hate ghosts. Mom-- Mom  _ shot  _ me. They’re so wrong about what ghosts are. If they found out that I’m Phantom, they’d… I don’t know  _ what _ they’d do.”

“So you don’t trust them?”

“No. In- in fact, I…” Danny shuffled in his seat. “I want Mom to know that what she did was wrong. I want to tell her that she shouldn’t have tried to bring me back.”

“So why don’t you?” asked Tucker, taking a sip of his Nasty Cola.

“I don’t know,” Danny said. “I think she’d be upset. Or, I don’t know, try to  _ fix _ it even more.”

Tucker grimaced. “Ah.”

“Would it be any better if somebody else said it for you?” asked Sam.

“No, no,” Danny said. “It has to come from me.” Sam opened her mouth, and Danny shot a glance at her. “ _ Not _ Phantom,” he said. “She hates Phantom. Phantom isn’t  _ trustworthy _ , not like I am to her.”

“Would a letter work?” Tucker asked. “That way, you wouldn’t have to say it.”

Danny was silent. Maybe… But, that still involved directly telling Maddie how he felt. He couldn’t do that.

Sam snapped her fingers. “It doesn’t have to be direct,” she said. “It can be something that says, ‘ _ I know what you did’ _ , but it doesn’t have to be to her. You don’t even have to say it’s about her.”

“Like, I should… put it to music?” asked Danny. Sam nodded, currently occupied with her order of fries. “A song about her…” He nodded to himself. “Yeah. Yeah, that could work.”

“You want help?” asked Sam. “I might not be the best in English, but I’m pretty good  _ at _ English. I can help you with lyrics.”

“I can program your keytar,” Tucker said in turn. “Help get you the sounds you want?”

Danny smiled. “You’re really good friends, you know that? Especially to someone like me.”

Neither of them seemed to be listening to him-- they were watching behind him. Danny followed their gaze to the older teens, who were caught in an argument. 

“I can’t believe you, Johnny!” the girl said. “You almost killed a guy on our way here, and now you admit you  _ wouldn’t have had a problem with it _ ?”

“Relax,” Johnny said. “He  _ didn’t _ die.”   
“Still--!” The girl looked like she was about to stomp her foot. “Are you really  _ that _ callous? You remember our accident. Would you want someone else to experience that?”

“Kitty, Kitty,” he chided. “I’m excellent with my bike. I wouldn’ta hit him.”

“You say that, but…” Kitty turned away. “You said that  _ before _ , too.”

Johnny fell silent. The tension in the air was nearly palpable. 

He towered over Kitty, his entire demeanor changed. “...We don’t bring up  _ before _ . Understand me?”

They stared each other down, Kitty’s expression unwavering. Danny couldn’t see Johnny’s face, but he looked furious. “ _ Understand? _ ”

Kitty spoke quietly but deliberately. “I don’t want you being somebody else’s  _ before. _ ”

Johnny seethed. Danny saw-- at Johnny’s feet, his shadow was moving-- writhing. His breath clouded.  _ A ghost? _ “Um, this guy…”

“And I’m telling you that I  _ won’t _ be!” he snapped. The shadow suddenly jumped free, ripping itself out Johnny and into the kitchen.

Danny got a very sudden, very bad feeling. “Guys,” he turned, “get out.”

“What?” asked Sam? “But we--”

“It’s not safe!” Danny said. “You gotta get out of here! Call my parents if you have to, but just--  _ go _ !”

Sam looked back at Danny, then nodded. She hurried out the door after Tucker, who was pulling out his phone already.

Meanwhile, Kitty walked right up against Johnny. “Don’t you  _ dare _ , Johnny. I know how you get when you’re this angry. You’ll tear this place apart!”

Johnny chuckled. “You think I’m callous?” He glanced towards the kitchen. “I’ll show you  _ callous. _ ”

Right when Johnny looked like he was about to make a move, Danny tackled him, throwing them both out the door and pinning him on the ground. “Are you out of your mind!?” Danny shouted.

Johnny spluttered. “Are  _ you? _ I had a point to make!”

“By hurting people?” Danny’s hands shook as he pointed at Johnny. “You could have killed my friends!”

“But I--”

“But you didn’t,” spat Kitty. She shoved Danny out of the way and stood over Johnny, hands gripping her sides. “You could have killed people. You could have caused a catastrophe. But you  _ didn’t. _ ”

“And you’re so high-and-mighty yourself?” Johnny growled as he got up. “You’ve never made a mistake? You’ve never ridden without a helmet claiming you didn’t need it?”

Kitty grabbed Johnny’s shirt, forcing him down to her level. “At least I don’t stoop to  _ threatening to blow up a restaurant _ when somebody calls me out for it.”

Danny noticed then that Johnny’s shadow was still missing. 

_ Shit. _ He had to do something. He had to stop this fight before it started. There was still at least one person in the Nasty Burger-- he couldn’t just let them die.

He had to--

_ No. NO! Anything but that. There has to be another way. _

_ There are people in danger! I can’t just stand here acting like I’m useless! I have to stop this fight! _

_ You’re not Phantom anymore. You have a life again. Bringing him back would throw it all away. You can’t possibly do this.  _ Danny almost listened to that side of him.

Then Johnny shouted at Kitty, looked at the building, and Danny didn’t even regard that thought. Mentally, he found his core and dove into it headfirst.

As the chill of going ghost rippled over him, both Johnny and Kitty looked his way. They froze.

“ _ Quit it! _ ” Danny shouted. “You’re going to kill somebody!”

Johnny pointed with a shaking hand. “You’re…”

“How are you…?” asked Kitty.

Danny didn’t listen to them. He had people to save. He flew back into the Nasty Burger, straight into its kitchen. There were two employees in there, one washing her hands, the other relaxing. Neither had noticed the shadowy ghost currently tampering with the giant vats of Nasty Sauce. Danny remembered a warning on the label of the packets-- he often read them when he was there alone.  _ Do not let Nasty Sauce exceed temperatures of 75 C. Doing so may cause combustion of products. _ And now…

The ghost was, indeed, drawing heating elements close to the vats. And the temperature displayed on the outside was none too slowly ticking up…

Danny didn’t hesitate a moment longer. He threw himself at the shadow, bringing them both to the floor. He turned to face the employees, holding it against the ground. “Get out! This place is gonna blow!”

“Who are you?” asked the relaxer. “And what is  _ that? _ ”

“Ghosts,” Danny answered. “This one is trying to--  _ Agh! _ ” He was cut off as the shadow slammed him against the floor with a hiss. It wriggled out of Danny’s grasp and slithered back to its initial position near the Nasty Sauce vats. The relaxer saw what it was doing and ran out of the restaurant.

Danny rushed at the shadow, but it easily avoided him and shoved him back again. The other employee got Danny’s attention. “What  _ is _ it?” she asked. “I know it’s a ghost, but…”

“It looks like it was somebody’s shadow. Or maybe it’s possessing his shadow,” Danny said. “You think he’s being overshadowed?”

The girl didn’t seem amused. “Great one. Would, I don’t know, bright light get rid of it?”

“It’s worth a shot,” Danny said. “I’ll try to keep the Nasty Sauce cool. Can you get a light?”

She nodded and ran off. Danny now threw himself at the shadow one last time. When it slid out of his way, he stretched his arm as long as it would go, and then longer. He grabbed ahold of it and threw it on the ground once again. “Stay where you  _ are _ , god damn it,” he hissed.

It hissed right back and drew back an arm that had come out of nowhere. Danny realized with a start that it intended to punch his lights out. “Oh, crud.” He couldn’t go intangible without losing his grip on the shadow. He just had to take the hit and hope with all his might that he didn’t--

A slam from the back door got their attention. “Take this!” the girl hissed, flicking on a bicycle light that hurt Danny’s eyes to even be around. Immediately the Shadow’s struggling slowed, then stopped as it dissolved into nothing.

Danny didn’t know what to say. “...Wow.”

“You’re welcome,” the girl said. “Did you get the sauce under control?”

Danny whipped around. “I didn’t. I, uh--”

He found the source of most of the heat-- a lit stove that was forced onto the vat, and shoved it out of the way. It moved a lot more easily than he thought it would. Perks of being a ghost, he guessed.

“Thanks,” the girl said. “We don’t, uh, have any insurance for this sort of thing, so you saved my ass.”

Danny grinned. “I’m here to help.” And just like that, he realized he still had to take care of Kitty and Johnny. Even though they weren’t nearly as dangerous now, he still didn’t like a fight. He should try to get them to make up.

“Um, I gotta go,” he said. “Thanks for the help.”

The girl nodded. “Now I gotta clean this all up. That was the manager who ran off, so…” She shrugged. “See you around?”

Danny nodded, and realized he meant it. He could still  _ be _ Phantom-- he just had to make sure his parents didn’t find out about it. It would be a secret, like Spider-Man or something. He could still help people. And now he had a couple to help, he thought as he walked out of the building.

Only-- they weren’t there anymore. The only person there was his dad.

Jack didn’t know what to expect when he got the call from Tucker Foley. He had been working on the Fenton Finder, trying and succeeding to make it work, when he got the news that the Nasty Burger was being threatened-- by a  _ ghost _ , no less. He couldn’t find Maddie-- assumed she was somewhere with Vlad --so he went alone.

And he was rather surprised when there had been no ghosts on the scene when he arrived. He was about to go in when--

A small, beaming ghost came out of the building, closing the door carefully behind him. He froze, though, happiness turning to shock, when he saw Jack.

Jack, unsure of what to do, raised his ecto-gun. If this was the ghost that was causing trouble, then…

The ghost’s expression changed to terror when he saw this, and he ran off as if his afterlife depended on it. Jack lowered the gun. He remembered what Ember the ghost girl had said--  _ ghosts aren’t evil _ . He called after the boy. “Ghost boy! Wait!”

He didn’t stop, of course. Jack followed after him. This most certainly didn’t look like a ghost that would hurt people. Jack had gotten off to a bad start with him, and he wanted to make amends. And, secretly, he wanted to prove to himself that he didn’t hate ghosts.

He watched the ghost boy slip into an alley. He came to the outside of it, then saw the boy. He was pressed against the wall of a building, and he looked absolutely  _ terrified _ of Jack.

“Can I come in?” he asked the boy. It was such a simple question-- it was something he might ask Jazz. And he was asking it to a ghost, something he had conditioned himself to think of as less than human all these years.

The ghost shook his head. “You’re a Fenton. Fentons hate ghosts. They…” He didn’t finish.

Jack’s mouth pressed into a line. “I suppose it does appear that way…” He thought for a moment.

An idea came to him. He disarmed his ecto-gun and dropped it on the ground as the boy watched. “How about now?” he asked.

“How do I know you don’t have any trick up your sleeve?” the boy asked. “How do I know you’re not just trying to earn my trust to… to throw it in my face later?”

Jack stopped and realized-- he sounded almost identical to Maddie.  _ I can’t be open with ghosts-- they’ll try to take advantage of my emotions. They’ll tip the balance in their favor. _

The ghost here shook his head after a moment. “No, you’re not that kind of guy.”

“So…?” Jack asked.

“You can… You can come in.” The boy sat down against the wall. “You can come in.”

Jack did, and sat down across from the boy. “I wanted to say… I’m sorry for trying to shoot at you.”

“What?” The boy’s eyes were fixed on him, glimmering like bright green water. “You’re sorry?”

“I got a call-- there was a ghost causing trouble at the Nasty Burger,” Jack explained. “I thought you were the one.”

Understanding dawned on the boy’s face. Now that night had fallen, his eyes seemed to shine like moonlight. “But… how did you know I  _ wasn’t _ ?”

“Are you kidding?” Jack asked. “I saw how you held the door so it didn’t slam. You’re too gentle!”

The boy flushed. “I, uh…”

“Listen,” Jack said. “I had a talk, with a ghost. She told me some things that made me think I might be wrong about how I’ve been thinking about ghosts. And, I’m thinking I’ll have to make some changes about the way I act, too.”

The boy was still watching him, silently.

“Can I ask a favor of you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I need your help,” Jack admitted. “I want to know more about ghosts, but I don’t want it to be by picking them apart molecule by molecule. I want to know about it… firsthand.”

“Firsthand?...” The ghost straightened. “Do you mean… you want me to teach you?”

“I suppose,” Jack said.

“Does this mean you don’t hate ghosts?” asked the boy, drawing closer to Jack. “Like, if your, I don’t know, son was a ghost, you wouldn’t hate him for it?”

“ _ Hate _ him?” Jack’s eyes widened. “Never. Not now that I know about ghosts.”

Was that a vestigial gesture, or had the boy really  _ sighed _ in relief? He looked back at Jack. “Deal. I’ll help you out. But, um, not now. I have to go back to the… Ghost Zone. I’ll see you later!” When Jack nodded, he disappeared. Jack’s own shoulders lost their tension as he picked up his gun and left.

When Jack got home, Danny was fast asleep on the couch, a smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trust me im still juggling plot details. but like this time i have depth perception


End file.
